


My Heart is the Home Where I Wait for You

by ManhattanMom



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BoFA is canon, Canonical Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, brief mentions of PTSD-like symptoms, brief mentions of violence, broken hearts and angst, mpreg not dwelled upon but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 36,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManhattanMom/pseuds/ManhattanMom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo leaves with the Company, having fallen in lust with Bofur, and is happier than he's ever been...until he falls in love with Thorin.</p><p>And after the BoFA, things in Erebor only get more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Art of Being Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! This started off fairly straight-forward...and then got away from me! Thanks for reading and I hope you have fun - I certainly did writing it...

At first glance, a hobbit in the magnificent dwarven kingdom of Erebor seemed the height of incongruity.

****

After all, hobbits were well-known to rarely venture outside the borders of the Shire, and those that did almost never got further than Rivendell...and _those_ hobbits gained nearly legendary status for making it _that_ far.

****

But as almost any visitor to The Lonely Mountain could attest to, a hobbit did, in point of fact, live in Erebor...among the dwarves, just as tidily as you please.

****

His name was Bilbo Baggins, and he never ceased to be embarrassed by the ballad that carried his name (and for the record, he was nearly three feet _six inches tall_ , thank you very much), or by the almost worshipful renown afforded him by his part in the reclaiming of Erebor.

****

In his heart, he knew the truth - he was merely a hobbit, albeit one who had possessed the courage to join a foolhardy quest and follow an exiled dwarven king across Middle Earth to help him take back his kingdom from a dragon.

****

Actually, when you looked at it that way, Bilbo supposed he was a _little_ magnificent, after all.

****

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****

Intentionally or not, Bofur made quite an entrance into Bag End that first day.  It was certainly not difficult to notice him.

****

Not difficult in the slightest.

****

The dwarf had ended up at the bottom of the large pile-up Bilbo had inadvertently caused by opening his door more quickly than they expected and so was hidden from Bilbo's view initially in the chaos that followed.

****

But oh my!  Once the dust settled and Bilbo had a chance to take everyone in, he found himself drawn to those bright green eyes and that warm grin like a moth to a flame.  

****

"Hullo there!"  the dwarf greeted merrily.

****

"Ah…yes.  Er, I mean - hello!"  Bilbo sputtered in response, suddenly very self-conscious and feeling his face flush.   _Oh, gods in heaven,_ he thought crossly to himself, _gather hold of yourself and stop acting like a tween in heat!_

****

But there was definitely something about the way Bofur moved, as if he was dancing to music only he could hear, and laughed, deeply and with an edge of wickedness, that made the hobbit almost light-headed and sent a surge of pure lust spiking through his belly, nearly taking his breath away.  

****

And THAT was something Bilbo had even less experience with than he did thirteen unruly dwarves.  It wasn't that he was entirely inexperienced by any means (and in fact he'd very recently enjoyed the company of Ferderand Whitfurrow, after that ridiculously contentious meeting regarding the Loamsdown sheep trampling through Togo Brandybuck's prize watermelon patch…and hadn't _that_ been a lovely evening), but rarely in his life had he felt such hunger, such a longing in, well, places he was not accustomed to, to say the least.  

****

_You ridiculous old fool!_ he scolded himself.   _Whatever in this great, green world has gotten into you?_  Not only was the dwarf a complete stranger, he mused further, he was most likely attached, if his own attraction was anything to go by.  It seemed impossible that such a charming, cheerful, frankly _beautiful_ being would not have someone to call their own…

****

And yet…

****

If Bilbo was not mistaken, there was a glimmer of interest coming from Bofur.  At least, it certainly seemed that way, whenever Bilbo snuck a glance in the dwarf's direction and was met with a wink, or a knowing smile…and a clear, obvious heat in the other's eyes.  It was enough to make even the most respectable hobbit forget himself and stare far too often…and for far too long.  

****

And soon enough the staring led Bofur to find his way to Bilbo's side.  

****

And soon after that, it led Bofur to find his way into Bilbo's bed.

****

And, soon after _that_ , there was really no question regarding Bilbo's joining the quest.  The only question was, what exactly did one pack on a journey that was expected to end with a dragon, of all things?

****

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****

Thorin's first impression left much to be desired.  

****

He was, at the very least, brusque and indifferent, and at worst, cruel and actively hostile toward Bilbo.  How the Dwarven King managed to turn an acknowledgment of Bilbo's race into a casual insult was nothing short of maddening, and his expectations and, following that, his coarse dismissal of Bilbo's fighting skills were truly not to be believed.  In his own home, no less!  If you had ever told Bilbo Baggins a guest in his home would walk in, offer nothing but cold criticism and then imperiously sweep past him as if he were nothing more than a valet, the hobbit would have laughed all the way to Bree and back.  

****

And yet, here they were.

****

Truthfully, Bilbo spent much of that first evening terribly distracted by Bofur's twinkling eyes, and his laughing mouth (even as that very mouth served to unnerve him to the point of fainting with its casual descriptions of the kind of carnage a dragon could wreak) - he was not overly concerned with Thorin's rude behavior.  After that first night spent in the privacy of his bedroom with Bofur's lips, teeth and broad hands gently (and sometimes not so gently) caressing every bit of his flesh, he honestly could have cared less if Thorin found him to be one narrow step above an elf in terms of usefulness.

****

At least he remembered his handkerchief at the last possible moment.

****

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****

The first few weeks the company was on the road were the most blissful Bilbo had enjoyed since the death of his parents…and quite possibly in his entire life.  Days were spent riding on his pony, watching Bofur from afar and imagining all the places he wanted to taste and smell and caress when they stopped for the night…and the evenings were often spent fulfilling those fantasies.  

****

The rest of the company gave them a wide berth, as it was commonly agreed upon in Dwarven culture that when a Dwarf has discovered their One, such a thing was to be respected, and the couple indulged…at least as much as they could be, depending on the circumstances.  

****

Regarding the quest, privacy was the main obstacle, as Thorin forbade them from wandering too far from the group as a whole, and Bilbo, while drunk on the sensations of the toymaker's hands and tongue and hardness against him, was simply too much a hobbit (and a Baggins at that!) to feel completely at ease within earshot of so many others.  They learned to bring each other ecstasy as quietly as possible, and Bilbo reached countless peaks with his mouth muffled against Bofur's shoulder or lips…or with the dwarf's hat clutched to his face.  

****

Bofur had an easier time of it, in so much as he was not nearly as self-conscious as Bilbo - a fact that often turned Bilbo's ears red as they were teased the next day by Kíli, Fíli...and Bombur, especially. But one look at Bofur's grin, so full of warmth, and Bilbo would feel a tingling in his chest and a steadfast desire to grab Bofur by the pigtails and pull him close so he could catch that grin with his mouth and kiss the dwarf senseless.  

****

Those kisses were almost the best part of it all, for Bilbo.  He relished pressing his lips to Bofur's and gently coaxing the dwarf's mouth open with his tongue, licking and pushing ever so slightly, teasing and tickling, until he was granted access and then, with both hands firmly holding Bofur's face in place, ravaging the dwarf's mouth until Bofur would be panting and keening, his hands all but tearing the hobbit's buttons off his waistcoat.  

****

For his part, Bofur seemed never to cease being delighted by the contrast of Bilbo's sense of propriety with his enthusiasm for all things sensual…and, indeed, many nights found Bofur pleading for mercy as Bilbo sucked down every drop of his seed while working his oiled fingers into Bofur's tight heat, pushing the dwarf to the edge of madness with his slow, deliberate motions, until Bofur was all but weeping for Bilbo to take him, Mahal, please, take him now now _now_.  

****

It was a wonder they didn't fall asleep on their ponies during the day, for all they wore each other out at night.

****

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Overall, Bofur's obvious approval and acceptance of the hobbit served to smooth what could have been a very difficult transition for all involved, as it was difficult to remain aloof or condescending to someone who was so obviously being plundered almost nightly by one of your own…and was so enthusiastic about it, as well.  

****

Even Thorin grew more respectful of Bilbo, and while his demeanor overall was still fairly cool, it was not cold.  He seemed to be resigned to the situation and demanded nothing more than common sense from the lovers.

****

It was in Rivendell that things began to change.  

 


	2. Why can't you see who I truly am?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo suffers after the encounters with the trolls and the orcs, and finds solace in an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE THE TAGS HAVE BEEN ADDED TO, PLEASE
> 
> WARNING in this chapter for PTSD-like symptoms...they are mentioned fairly briefly and not in much details, but they are there all the same...so if that's a trigger for you, please proceed with caution. Also, brief mentions of violence - nothing too gratuitous, but it's there.

The dangers of the trolls and the orcs had left their mark on Bilbo, and in the days after they arrived at the last Homely House he was exhausted more profoundly than he ever would have thought possible.  Such dangers, while not completely foreign to him, had, until now, been almost entirely theoretical and he found himself having a great deal of difficulty relaxing and putting the whole thing behind him as easily as his companions had.  His spirit felt drawn and quartered, as if he had broken into pieces and been put back together by a less-than-benevolent force, and he found he missed the Shire and his cozy, predictable smial most dreadfully.  

****

Even when he closed his eyes, he would see the faces of the trolls, leering at him as they held him upside down…or he would smell the scent of his own terror, sharp and pungent, as he ran with the dwarves in a desperate attempt to stay one step ahead of the orcs and wargs.

****

Not even Bofur's touch could help.  He found himself going through the motions when they made love, rocking with the force of Bofur's thrusts into him but feeling no desire to arch back…and he grew extremely familiar with the ceiling of the room they shared.

****

If Bofur noticed this difference, he made no comment…but his caresses grew more desperate, and his kisses rough and sometimes painful.  

****

If Bilbo was unhappy with the increasingly frantic nature of their trysts, he made no comment…but his eyes grew more hazy, and his mind grew more distant.  

****

If Thorin noticed any difference, he made no comment.

****

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"Burglar, you are to come with us to meet with Elrond."

****

Bilbo looked up and saw Thorin staring down at him, and immediately felt guilty.  For what, he was not sure - he had been sitting stiffly, overlooking the valley on one of the balconies throughout the wing they had been given by their host to stay in.  Perhaps, he reasoned, he felt guilty because he had not been helping ready the company for their inevitable departure, nor had he been enjoying the wonders of Rivendell.  He had, in fact, just been sitting there…trying not to think of the way the trolls had held him as they threatened to tear him apart…or of the feeling of his lungs burning as he ran as hard as he could, knowing it would never be fast enough.

****

"Master Baggins?"

****

The impatient tone was impossible to mistake…or ignore.  Bilbo pulled himself with some effort from his musings and looked up at Thorin, who was watching him carefully, his expression guarded.

****

"Yes.  Forgive me, Master Thorin, lost in my thoughts, I fear.  Say again?"

****

"I…asked you to join us, Balin and I, that is, to meet with Lord Elrond.  Gandalf is insisting and - "

****

"Yes, yes of course," Bilbo interrupted.  "When are we to meet him?"

****

Thorin's eyebrows raised as he peered down at Bilbo.  "As I was saying, Gandalf is insisting.  He believes Elrond holds some sort of knowledge regarding my father's map and that - "

****

"Shall we, then?"  Bilbo rose and brushed off his trousers and started off, leaving Thorin alone on the balcony, the rest of his sentence fading on his lips, his expression changing from irritation to something much less recognizable on him.  

****

Compassion.

****

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****

"Master Baggins, I would speak with you."

****

They were walking from the meeting back to the rooms the elves had shown them to upon their arrival, and Bilbo realized he hadn't even really paid attention to the meeting, other than remembering there now seemed to be a deadline, a date by which they _had_ to reach Erebor, in order to find a secret door…or some such.  He honestly found he was so weary it was hard to focus on anything, anything that was not trolls or orcs or wargs.  

****

How had he managed to live to be fifty and be so blissfully unaware of what sort of terrors transpired beyond the boarders of the Shire?  With the notable and horrific exception of the Fell Winter, Bilbo had never recognized how idyllic and peaceful his upbringing had been, and he was growing slowly despondent of his inability to move beyond the events that preceded their stay in Imlardis.  

****

And now he was giving Thorin yet another reason to take him to task.

****

Bilbo sighed and, without looking at Thorin, asked, "Yes?"

****

Thorin said nothing for a moment, and then -

****

"Do you wish to speak to me about anything?"

****

The dwarf's question came as a complete surprise to Bilbo, so much so that he stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at Thorin in surprise.

****

"…speak to you?  What do you imagine I'd want to speak to you about?"  Bilbo asked, genuinely confused as to Thorin's meaning.  He had been expecting a curt reprimand, a stern warning of some sort, or maybe even a discussion about what had transpired when Elrond had proven more than capable of deciphering Thorin's map, but this… _this_...

****

Bilbo was utterly unprepared for such a question.

****

Thorin had stopped when Bilbo had, and now he took the hobbit by the arm and, almost gently, guided him to a stone bench against the wall of the corridor.  He pulled Bilbo down (gently, again, Bilbo had the presence of mind to register) and then sat next to him, almost close enough for their shoulders to touch.  

****

Bilbo felt as confused as he ever had and could do nothing but look down at his hands, folded in his lap, and wait for Thorin to say something, anything, that would explain what in Yavanna's name was going on.  He looked up at the wall across from where they sat, and a distant part of his mind admired the tapestry hanging there, depicting a pastoral scene filled with flowers and sunshine.  

****

_I wonder if that is supposed to be any one place in particular_ , he mused to himself, _or if it's just a general scene of beauty, placed here to comfort whomever choses to sit on this bench_.  He was pulled from his thoughts by Thorin's next question.

****

"Are you able to sleep?"

****

_Am I able to sleep?_  thought Bilbo.   _What in the world…?_  As peculiar as this was, and as uncomfortable as he felt, it was admittedly the first time since escaping the orcs that he was not thinking of being torn apart or devoured, and for that he was absurdly grateful.  "I am sleeping perfectly fine, Master Thorin, thank you for your concern."

****

He stopped, and then after a moment added,  "I must admit to being a little baffled by all this attention. I'm not certain what I have done to warrant it."

****

Thorin snorted, and his gaze, which had been fixed piercingly on Bilbo, moved to focus on something just above his head.  "Master Baggins, if you would refer to your condition since arriving here as 'perfectly fine', you and I hold very different opinions on what qualifies as 'fine'.  It has not escaped my notice that you are drawn, and pale, and seem to carry a very great weight with you.  I would have you unburden yourself."  

****

They sat there in silence for a while, neither moving nor speaking.  

****

Strangely, Bilbo found himself relaxing slightly.  It was as if there was some quiet comfort to be found in Dwarven King's presence, and Bilbo found himself not wanting to examine that too closely.  It felt strangely like a betrayal of Bofur, finding comfort in another, and that thought made Bilbo's heart feel heavy and even more troubled than it already did.  

****

He rested his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, wishing...for what, he did not know. It was heartbreaking to think he could wish he'd never met the Company at all, when that would mean he would never have known Bofur's touch, or felt the warmth of his skin...but the emptiness in his heart and the misery in his soul weighed so heavily he found himself of late wishing just that.

****

The silence continued for some time and then -

****

"Do you recall the battle Balin spoke of?  Azanulbizar?"

****

Bilbo opened his eyes and looked to Thorin, who was also sitting, eyes closed, with his head resting back against the wall.  The dwarf's eyes remained closed as he said,

****

"After the battle, when the Orcs had been driven back and what we had lost was fully realized, I - I was filled with a despair so black I was powerless against it.  I could not close my eyes without seeing my grandfather's head lying in the dirt, without hearing the screams of my brother as he lay dying...without feeling my blood pounding in my head.  I did not, could not sleep for days, until I began to go mad from it and Oín forced me to drink a sleeping draught.  Even then - "

****

He opened his eyes and focused on Bilbo.

****

"Even then, my sleep was restless.  Almost tortured.  I felt as if I were trapped in this maze of fear and bloody memories and simply could not find my way out."

****

Oh _._

****

_Oh,_ Bilbo thought to himself, _Oh, at last. At last. Thank the gods._

****

Without knowing _what_  he had needed, or even that he had needed anything at all, he now knew he had found it.

****

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt a loosening in his chest, and tears stinging his eyes.  He swallowed hard, and still the lump in his throat remained, and grew, until the tears started to fall.  And once that happened, Bilbo found he could not stop the sobs from breaking free.  He desperately pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying vainly to stem the tide of his tears, but it felt so _good_ to be _understood,_  was such an enormous relief, that soon he was gasping with the force of it, taking in big gulps of air in the effort to keep himself from weeping.

****

Thorin sat quietly next to him, watching him, until Bilbo felt a strong, callused hand on the back of his neck, steadying him, and heard Thorin say softly, "Do not fight it so, Bilbo.  Let it out.  Let it out", and he had the presence of mind to recognize that was the first time he'd ever heard the dwarf use his given name.  

****

He chose not to examine _that_ too closely, either.

 

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Standing on the Carrock, with Thorin's arms around him, Bilbo knew he was lost.

 


	3. Alone in a love meant for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur have a difficult conversation, and Bilbo and Thorin have an illuminating one. 
> 
> And then Bilbo shares a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that mpreg tag? Well, get ready because thar she blows!

"I don't understand."

****

Bilbo sighed.  "Nor do I, Bofur.  I am truly sorry - "

****

Bofur looked up from where he was sitting.  The lovers were safe, along with the rest of the company, at Beorn's home, and Bilbo had brought Bofur out to the far reaches of the garden in the hopes of complete privacy.  He knew this conversation was going to be terribly distressing for both of them.

****

"Bilbo, are you..." Bofur stopped, looking pained.

****

Bilbo looked at Bofur, really _looked_ at him, and his heart sank even more than it already had, once he'd realized what he needed to do.

****

"Bofur - "

****

"Are you telling me you are choosing another?"

****

Bilbo closed his eyes briefly, and a tiny part of him thought longingly of his life in the Shire, with its simplicity and sameness.  

****

"Bofur", he began gently, "you are so dear to me - "

****

"And you to me!" Bofur interrupted, reaching for Bilbo.

****

Bilbo caught Bofur's outstretched hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to the palm, noticing and gently rubbing his fingers over the calluses.  He kept his gaze focused there, unable to look directly at Bofur as he continued, hesitantly.

****

"You are so dear to me, but things have come about, and I now know that we...we are not meant to be.  My heart leads me in a different direction, and I must follow it.

****

"I'm so sorry.  So terribly sorry."

****

Bilbo raised his eyes to meet Bofur's, and felt his heart clench at what he saw there.  The normally cheerful eyes were dull and, as Bilbo watched, a bleak comprehension dawned in them.  Bofur opened his mouth...and promptly shut it again, looking down, and Bilbo realized he desperately wanted the dwarf to rage against him, or weep, or do anything other than what he _was_ doing, which was appear so broken and devastated Bilbo was almost afraid.  

 

Of what exactly, he could not say.

****

"Bofur.  Love - "

****

"No.  Don't."

****

Bofur looked up, and Bilbo felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of his empty, despondent expression.  

****

_Ahh_ , he thought, _Look what I've done.  I never meant to be careless and yet, look what I've done._

****

"You can't call me that.  Please.  Only I'm not your love, am I?  I never _was_ your love.  Oh, Mahal, I'm such a fool, I've brought this on myself."

****

"Bofur - "

****

"Don't.  I beg you.  Please don't."  And then he really _was_ begging, for what, Bilbo wasn't sure.  Begging him to stay, begging him to cease offering cold comfort ...Bilbo didn't know and the end result was the same, wasn't it?  As much as he may wish it were not true, he couldn't do anything differently because he did not love Bofur.

****

He loved Thorin.

****

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Where his passion with Bofur had burned brightly and struck him quickly and unexpectedly, his heat with Thorin flamed more steadily and surely.  It had been growing for a long while, since Rivendell, and despite the Dwarven King's behavior to the contrary, it appeared as if he too had been besotted for a good long while before the Carrock had removed all doubt.

****

"You must be joking."

****

Thorin chuckled quietly, and drew the hobbit closer to him as they lay on the enormous bed in the room Beorn had offered to Thorin.

****

"I am not, I assure you.  It was immediate, from the first moment I saw you."

****

Bilbo pushed himself up and off Thorin's chest and sat back on his heels, looking pointedly at the dwarf.

****

"You are honestly going to lie there and tell me that from the moment you entered Bag End, you knew?  That I was your "One", as you say?"

****

"I _will_ tell you that, because it is, in fact, the truth.  It was as I was always told it could be - like a lightning bolt." Thorin's eyes grew soft, and Bilbo gazed at him, full of wonder...and more than a little desire.  

****

He waited for the king to continue.

****

"You must understand, we - dwarves, I mean - are told from an early age that we are each gifted with a One by our Maker, the other half of our soul, whom we will love and cherish above all others.  The one whose passion will warm us even after death, until we can be reunited in the halls of Mandos."

****

Bilbo's mood, which had been light and almost cheery, began to change into something much more dark...and heavy, with Thorin's words.  The breadth of his accountability to Bofur was something he did not wish to think on, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, the more specific Thorin was.  Bilbo wondered briefly if the king realized this...and decided he probably did.

****

"I had long since decided that my One must have fallen with Erebor, or been forced to flee so far away I was unlikely ever to find them. I was entirely unprepared to meet you, Master Hobbit.  And when I recognized you - " and here he sat up and leaned forward gently, slipping one broad hand around Bilbo's head, and the other around his neck, his thumbs stroking the hobbit's cheekbones lightly. "When I recognized you...I was filled with such joy.  And such fear.  And, because of who I am and what life has taught me, I chose to respond to the fear.  I tried to push you away as hard and fast as I could."

****

"Oh,  Thorin," Bilbo murmured.  He leaned forward to press his forehead against the dwarf's, in a gesture he had by this point recognized as intimate and supportive.  

****

A gesture of love.

****

"My behavior and comments to you - and no, I do not think you look more like a grocer than a burgler - were unwarranted and completely unfounded.  And now you know they were also my weak attempt at keeping you at arm's length.  Because I did not want to see you for what you were."

****

"And what am I?"  Bilbo asked softly, needing the reassurance.

****

Thorin looked at him, smiling slightly but warmly, and Bilbo felt his knees go weak under the intense, heated gaze.

****

"Why, Master Baggins, I thought you knew," Thorin said quietly, his voice impossibly deep and rich.   "You are the beating heart and joyful soul of the King Under the Mountain."

****

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Through all the trials in Mirkwood, Bilbo found himself to be so very tired, and simply wrote this off as natural. They were, after all, on a terribly perilous journey, and the utter lack of sunlight was something the hobbit had never experienced before and hoped never to again.  He felt as if his skin was crawling, and his bones were collapsing in on themselves.   _Hobbits are like flowers_ , he reminded himself after once again tripping over his own feet as he dragged them across the forest floor.   _We simply do not grow or blossom in the dark._

****

It was also exhausting to be around Bofur and as unfair as it was, Bilbo fervently longed for circumstances to be...well, different.  

****

He could not bring himself to regret his time with the toymaker - it had been truly lovely and was the first time in so very long that he had felt connected to another being, after so many years alone in his smial.  He was selfish enough that he would not wish to have never felt desire for Bofur, and realistic enough to recognize that it very well might have been his spur-of-the-moment decision to follow _through_ on that desire that led him, however circuitously, to Thorin.  Something long dormant in him had been awakened at the sight of Bofur, and that something now filled his every breath with such utter contentment and rightness that to wish things were different in any way was unthinkable.

****

But since Bilbo was not a cruel creature, it caused him great pain to see the agony the toymaker was in due to his love for Thorin.  Truly, the hobbit had not fully grasped the great responsibility he was taking on when he chose to care for Bofur, and now...well.  As if it were not enough to bear up under the constant silent scrutiny of Bifur and Bombur, their eyes filled with reproach (and, in Bifur's case, more than a little anger),  it was heart-rending to constantly be in Bofur's company, and see him watch Bilbo with Thorin.  His attention seemed to rarely leave them, and when Bilbo _did_ catch his eye, Bofur turned away so quickly Bilbo sometimes wondered if he was imagining things.

****

And through it all, he was still so weak and tired.

****

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****

Bilbo discovered _why_ exactly he'd been feeling so poorly right before their escape from Thranduil's dungeon. To say he was stunned and terrified was an understatement; to say he was secretly thrilled as well was not far from the truth.

****

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****

It was Bilbo's confession that he was carrying their child that broke Thorin's gold sickness, and convinced the dwarf to stay his hand against the Elves and Men.  

****

And soon enough, there was a larger enemy to contend with.

 


	4. Where once was all, now lies nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of the Five Armies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - this chapter has brief descriptions of violence...and character death. You know, like the tag says...sorry.

The Battle of the Five Armies was ferocious and horrifying, and Bilbo despaired any of the Company would survive such an onslaught.  The air was thick with dust and the smell of blood, and Bilbo was frantic to find Thorin.  The dwarven king had forbidden Bilbo to set foot on the battlefield in light of his news, and the hobbit had reluctantly agreed, but the passivity had proved too much for him and, slipping on his ring, he had entered the fray, desperately hoping he was not too late.

****

He kept the image of Thorin's face following his revelation at the front of his mind, a soothing balm against the bite of panic that was settling into him as he beheld at the furious devastation around him.  

****

_Thorin's eyes, wide with astonishment and so impossibly bright with unshed tears, crinkled at the corners as he grinned more broadly than Bilbo had ever seen.  Before Bilbo knew what was happening, Thorin had swept him up and rained kisses all across his face and down his neck, murmuring words of love and sweet endearments between the gentle caresses.  Bilbo had begun laughing and had stretched his neck out to catch every kiss, sighing softly when he felt teeth grazing his jawline._

_He'd buried his face in the hollow of Thorin's neck, and inhaled his dwarf's scent, a tantalizing mix of metal, the crisp autumn air and Thorin's own musk.  He'd clung to Thorin, legs around his waist and arms around his neck, hands wrapped in the dwarf's thick, dark hair, feeling dizzy with relief and happiness, for he had not known how the king would respond to this news, and he had despaired of ever finding the courage and an opportune time to tell him.  Being embraced by him so warmly and passionately, and feeling his own joy matched and even exceeded by his lover's, Bilbo forgot briefly the terrible danger they were all in, and allowed himself a moment, just a single, short moment, to bask in the love and excitement his surprising news had created._

_**** _

_“So...you’re not angry with me?  For not telling you such a thing was possible?”_

_**** _

_Thorin held him even closer and nuzzled his ear, whispering, “Oh, Bilbo.  How could I ever be angry with you?  You have given me the greatest gift a dwarf could ever hope for.  Our children are so rare, and so very precious,” and the tears in his eyes began to spill over, and his voice grew rough.  “To be graced with one of our own...well, it is more than I ever dreamed possible.”_

_**** _

_He set Bilbo gently down on their shared bedrolls and knelt beside him, so that they were face to face._

_**** _

_Bilbo could not help but weep to see Thorin look so young, and so happy, all traces of the gold sickness gone from his eyes._

_**** _

_“Truly?  You are truly pleased?”_

_**** _

_Grasping the hobbit’s face in his hands, Thorin leaned in to press their foreheads together briefly, and then sat back to look into Bilbo’s eyes, his hands gently smoothing his hair and caressing his cheeks._

_**** _

_“More pleased than I have words to express.  I only hope they have their papa’s cleverness...and his beautiful, curly hair.”_

_**** _

_Laughing as he wiped away his tears, Bilbo said teasingly, “And what if they have his feet as well?”_

_**** _

_Thorin grinned again.  “Then we shall hope they have their adad’s sense when it comes to wearing shoes.”_

_**** _

And now, such a frighteningly short time later, he was running as fast as he could, clutching his side as a stitch came up from the exertion, scanning the carnage for some sign of his beloved.

****

And when at last he found it, he feared he might truly lose his mind.

****

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****

In the distance, Bilbo could see Azog standing above Thorin's prone body, and he screamed loudly enough to tear his throat.  Kíli and Fíli were there as well, but were faring no better, although for the time being they were keeping Azog at bay and away from Thorin.

****

And then...

****

Fíli was the first to fall, blindsided by a orc spear thrust through his back, by a warg-mounted orc.  Even from a distance, Bilbo could hear Kíli's cry and he felt his heart lurch in his chest as Kíli lashed out at the orc, knocking it from its warg and nearly beheading it, and then fell to his knees beside his brother.

****

"No, oh no, please, please, please." Bilbo barely recognized the croaking voice chanting in a whisper as his own as he continued to press through the melee to reach Thorin's side.  

****

It was as if his entire existence had narrowed down into one single point of light.  He simply did not know how he could go on were Thorin to die.  All that had happened, all the pain he had caused and the love he had known would be for nothing, would seem utterly senseless.

****

He was almost there, _almost there_...and then...

****

He watched as Kíli's back bowed with the force of the blow from another orc's blade, his arms thrown out and open, and then he collapsed on top of his brother.  Bilbo froze for a moment, almost mesmerized by the sight of the dark haired prince's body being lifted by Azog, and then flung aside like so much refuse.  

****

_Ah, no,_ Bilbo wept to himself, _not both, please no, not both._

****

He continued to press forward, gaining speed, for now there was no obstacle between Thorin and the pale orc.  The King lay motionless, totally vulnerable, in a horrific echo of the confrontation in the Misty Mountains, and as if in a dream, Bilbo ran and ran but seemed to get no closer to his beloved...and he could only look on as Azog reached down to lift Thorin...

****

And drove his hook through his heart.

****

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****

"Bilbo?"

****

The hobbit could hear the voice calling to him, but he could not muster the energy to open his eyes and respond.  Feeling as if he were underwater, he tried to swim up to the sound of his name, desperately hoping it was Thorin.  He had had the most terrifying dream, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands in Thorin's thick, dark mane, press their foreheads together and just breathe.

****

"Bilbo, can you hear me?"

****

Bilbo frowned, recognizing the voice did not belong to Thorin, but hearing in it an urgency, an urgency that filled his belly with cold fear and made his heart skip a beat.  

****

He _had_ to open his eyes.  He _had_ to see Thorin, to reassure himself the dwarf was safe and well and that all he had seen was merely the dream he was praying it was.

****

"Please, Bilbo, if you can hear me, please - open your eyes."

****

Mustering every drop of courage he possessed, Bilbo opened his eyes.

****

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****

Thorin was dead, as were Fíli and Kíli. It was no dream.

****

The rest of the Company had survived, saved by the Eagles and Beorn joining the battle, although it was very precarious with Glóin as well as Bifur for nearly a fortnight.

****

Azog was dead as well, wounded badly by Thorin, and finished off by Dwalin.

****

When Bilbo was taken to see Thorin's body, his shrieks could be heard all through the camp, and they sent a chill through everyone, so full were they of pain and despair.

****

He refused to leave his lover's side for nearly three days, and in the end, it took Dori, Dwalin and Óin to pull him away and sedate him.

****

When he was finally forced to leave, Bilbo shook the well-meaning hands off briefly and leaned forward to place a kiss on cold lips, and run a hand one last time through dark, silver-streaked hair.

****

"I swear to you", he said very quietly, "that I will raise our child well, and love them so deeply they will never want for anything.  I swear they will know everything I know, and cherish, about you, and I will never abandon them to my grief.  My dearest love, I swear to you - I will be both mother and father to them, and they will know every day how treasured they are."

****

And with that, he turned away from The King Under the Mountain, and toward his new life, alone.

 


	5. I know I am but summer to your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo settles into life in Erebor as best he can, and he and Bofur speak for the first time since before the battle.

Bilbo's pregnancy progressed quite normally, and with the significant exception of his heartbreak, he felt well and healthy throughout.  The Company had been shocked to discover he was with child, but most were very pleased the Line of Durin had not ended with the deaths of Thorin and his nephews.  Balin, in particular, excitedly made a point of checking on Bilbo with great regularity and commenting on his changing appearance.

****

The Ur family chose to say nothing one way or the other.  Bilbo accepted their silence gratefully, vastly preferring it to Bifur and Bombur's cold hostility, and Bofur's broken longing.

****

The hobbit had decided to stay and give birth in Erebor, and to remain there afterwards for an indeterminate time.  He did not fancy traveling home to the Shire in such a vulnerable condition, and feared being so far away from aid should anything go wrong on the way.  

****

Besides these practical concerns, Bilbo also admitted to himself it would break his heart to leave the Lonely Mountain, and Thorin, behind.  And would his child not be half-dwarf?  Was it even right and proper to raise them away from all influence of their father's kin?  Such were the thoughts that kept Bilbo up at night, when he was not struggling to maintain a grip on his endlessly churning sorrow.

****

Both Thranduil and Lord Elrond offered him a place for the duration of his pregnancy (indeed, for as long as he liked) and Bilbo considered both offers carefully. While he could barely fathom leaving Erebor and Thorin behind, the truth was the mountain was in shambles and it was going to take a good long while before that changed.  It was not the safest, most peaceful place in which to give birth.

****

But Rivendell was almost as far as the Shire...and Bilbo could not reconcile staying with Thranduil while carrying Thorin's child.  The thought alone of how Thorin would rage at him even _considering_ it caused the briefest of smiles to cross his face, and for that reason alone Bilbo was grateful to the Elven King.  

****

There was little enough to smile about nowadays.

****

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********  
  


In the aftermath of the great battle, Dain had been crowned king, and in many ways Bilbo was relieved, for it meant the succession of Erebor would now pass to Dain’s children or heirs.   He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, for the knowledge that his child would never rule made him feel somehow safer for the both of them, for now they could not be considered a threat of any kind.

****

Besides, the notion of royalty was terribly un-hobbit-like, and Bilbo fervently hoped Thorin would forgive him for not pressing harder regarding their child’s rights to the crown, considering all he had sacrificed to reclaim it.

****

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****

Throughout the rest of that autumn and into the winter, Bilbo rarely saw Bofur, although he heard from other Company members, most often Ori, that the miner turned toymaker was back to his former occupation and was, for all intents and purposes, in charge of getting Erebor's larger mines up and running.

****

Bilbo himself, hating to be idle, assisted Ori in the library and Balin and Dain in their dealings with Bard and the people of Laketown.  Dain agreed to help rebuild Dale with funds from Erebor's treasury (specifically from Bilbo's share  - the hobbit had insisted), and work progressed quickly, in an effort to get as much done as possible before the weather grew too cold.

****

The issue of feeding the dwarves was significant, and progress was made with the men regarding plans for farming in the springtime.  That did not solve the immediate problem, however, and for that Dain was forced to turn to Thranduil and the Mirkwood elves.  Luckily, Thranduil had grown quite fond of Bilbo, as evidenced by his invitation, and he proved himself more than willing to assist with food and supplies to get the mountain through the winter.

****

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****

Bilbo appreciated being busy, truly, but often he found himself sitting in front of Thorin's tomb, not really knowing how he'd gotten there, with tears he did not remember shedding on his cheeks, wishing for something to ease the grinding pain of grief.  He would look on the magnificent stone tomb and see only his lover, smiling softly at him, reaching to touch his hair and caress his face, and he would bury his face in his hands and wait for the worst of the pain to subside.

****

It was during one of these visits that Bofur came to see him.

****

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********  
  


It was not until Bilbo turned to leave that he saw Bofur sitting behind him.  It had been so very long since they had spoken, not since before the battle, and Bilbo could see how haggard the dwarf looked, and how sad.

****

Steeling himself, Bilbo approached Bofur, plastering a smile on his face in an effort to set the other at ease. He could see the discomfort in his own heart reflected in the other's eyes, but he pushed on and soon found himself standing in front of the dwarf, who had risen to meet him.  

****

His hands and arms felt awkward and unwieldy, and though protocol seemed to dictate _some_ form of physical contact, be it a handshake or an embrace, Bilbo held no desire to touch Bofur.  

****

They stood, looking at each other, until Bofur finally cleared his throat and spoke.

****

"I wanted t'see you.  To see for myself - "

****

Bilbo winced, looked down at his feet, and remained silent.

****

Bofur swallowed hard, and continued.  "To see how you were holding up...and t'offer my condolences on your loss.  Bifur and Bombur's, too."

****

At that, Bilbo snorted softly but Bofur, ignoring him, pressed on.

****

“I know it's long overdue,  but..." and here, the dwarf trailed off and looked down at his own feet.  Blinking back tears, he cleared his throat and continued, "But I wasn't sure you would want t'see me.  I'm not sure even now."

****

He scrubbed his face almost violently and looked up again, focusing on a spot above Bilbo's shoulder.  Bilbo looked up and watched as Bofur removed his hat and began worrying it between his hands.

****

"So there you have it.  I would tell you I'm at your service, you and your family's, but I know you would want _that_ even less.  I...I so dearly wish there was something I could do, some way to lessen your pain.  I only want you to be happy, you know."

****

Bilbo shook his head, at a loss for words.  He felt as if his skin was on too tightly, and his hands itched to strike Bofur's hat out of his hands, and shake him, scream at him, blame him for living when Thorin lay dead behind them.  

****

He closed his eyes tightly, drew a deep breath and said simply, "Thank you."

****

Bofur nodded briskly, and turned to leave.  Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief, and then -

****

"Congratulations on your wee one, Bilbo.  Children are Mahal's greatest blessing to us.  My heart breaks that you must face what should be a joyful time alone but still - you have m'best wishes."

****

The lump rose in Bilbo's throat so quickly he was not able to stifle the sob that followed it.  He coughed in a vain effort to cover it, closing his eyes, and felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

****

"Apologies for upsetting you.  'twas not my intention."

****

Bilbo reached up to squeeze Bofur's hand, pulling it from his shoulder in the process and setting it gently back by Bofur's side.  They were silent once more.  This time when Bofur turned to go,  he did not stop until he had left the chamber, and Bilbo was once again alone.

****

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****

She was born in the early spring, in a haze of pain and blood, the way all babes come into the world.  Bilbo handled the birthing admirably, and when he looked upon his daughter with Thorin Oakenshield for the first time, he felt the fist that had been clenched around his heart all these months loosen, and he  was finally able to see there could be an end to at least the sharp edges of his grief, if he chose to take it.

****

So he named his little dwobbit Adana, and chose to follow her up and out of his heartbreak.

 


	6. Live with bitterness, learn to condemn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís arrives in Erebor, and Bilbo learns some inconvenient truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where we start to jump the tracks a bit...this was not part of what I planned in the beginning; it just sort of happened...
> 
> Also please note - I updated the tags...

Adana was barely four months old when Dís arrived in Erebor.  Bilbo had insisted on meeting her caravan personally with his daughter, despite his extreme anxiety at meeting his beloved's sister and only living family for the first time.

****

Most of the company waited as well.  Glóin's family was on the same caravan, as was Bombur's.  The only member missing was Bofur, and Bilbo was frankly glad to be spared the additional emotional turmoil.  Bad enough to suffer through Bombur and Bifur's sideways glances and narrow looks.

****

Dís was as fair as Thorin had been dark, like Fíli, but her eyes were a deep, rich brown, like Kíli's had been. There was no mistaking her for anyone other than their mother, and her straight, almost stiff bearing and elegance also made it clear whose sister she was, and from whose line she was descended.

****

Bilbo's mouth went dry as she approached him, and he nervously bounced Adana in her sling, though whether that was to soothe her or himself, he wasn't sure.

****

"So, this is the - "

****

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service", Bilbo interrupted, once it was clear what she had been about to say.  He could not bear to hear those words, and he ignored the raised eyebrow his rudeness elicited.  "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Dís, daughter of Thrain.  May I introduce my daughter Adana, your - ", and here the hobbit stumbled, "your...niece."

****

Dís did not coo, or soften, or ask to hold the child.  She only looked at her, tucked in her father's chest and said, "Mahal bless you for giving our people this gift, Master Hobbit.  And I offer my personal thanks as well, for this child of Durin's line.  

****

Would that she and I were not all that remained."

****

And with that, she turned on her heel, and continued on into Erebor.

****

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****

By the autumn, Bilbo had had enough.  If Dís was going to ignore him and her own niece, then he would bloody well know why.  

****

He arranged to have Dori sit with Adana while he sought out the princess one afternoon, very close to the anniversary of Durin's Day.  He found her on a balcony off the royal quarters, close to the surface and facing west towards the setting sun.

****

She sat as straight-backed and rigid as he remembered her being when he'd met her, those many months ago.  Her golden hair gleamed in the light of the setting sun, and her eyes were closed, hands folded in her lap.

****

She spoke before Bilbo said anything.

****

"I have been waiting, Master Hobbit. Truly, I did not expect you would keep me thus for so long.  Are you duties as Consort to a dead king so consuming you have been unable to carve out adequate time before now?"

****

Stunned, Bilbo remained silent.

****

"Or is it your child that kept you from this meeting?  Your half-breed child with my brother, spawned with the taste of another's lips still fresh upon yours?"

****

And at this, she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, and Bilbo felt his heart chill as he saw the bitterness and fury in her eyes.

****

"For it would seem one was not enough for you.  You desired my brother as well, bewitched him with whatever pathetic halfling magic your Yavanna gifted you with."  Her lips were a tight, pale slash across her face, and two bright flushes of color stood out on her cheeks.  Bilbo felt his pulse quicken and his breath caught in his throat.   _How did she_...

****

"Lady Dís, forgive me - "

****

She whirled to face him.  " I do _not_ forgive you, Hobbit.  Shall I speak more plainly?  I long for the day you and that child leave here, never to return.  Because of you, my brother and sons are dead, and...and you broke his heart.  Have you not done enough?  Go.  Go, and leave us in peace."

****

Turning to face the setting sun again, she closed her eyes, effectively dismissing Bilbo.

****

The hobbit drew breath to respond, and then released it in a soft sigh.  Turning to leave, he was suddenly struck by a realization.  He leaned against the door frame, and groaned softly as he dropped his head into his hands.

****

Dís had not been speaking of Thorin when she told Bilbo the hobbit had broken his heart.

****

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****

If things had been uncomfortable before, they were now unbearable.  Knowing the resentment Dís felt for him and worse, for his daughter, made Bilbo wild to leave Erebor as soon as possible.  After much thought, he approached Balin about the change in his plans.  The old councillor sighed while listening to Bilbo explain.

****

"Aye, lad, well I know of her feelings, but you'll have to forgive my not telling you.  I never believed she would spurn her own blood over some...misguided affection."

****

" _Misguided affection?_ "  Bilbo was shocked.  "Balin, she's in love with Bofur!  How long had this been going on?   _What_ was going on?  And why did he never say anything to me about loving someone in Ered Luin?"

****

Balin sat heavily, and sighed deeply again, clearly gathering his thoughts.

****

"Surely by now you have some knowledge of dwarves and their Ones, yes?"

****

Bilbo nodded impatiently. "More than I ever wanted to know, frankly. It seems a right mess in many ways, excuse me for saying so."

****

Balin smiled softly, and said, "To an outsider, I do not doubt that.  The idea is that Mahal created a perfect mate for each of us, the other half that will make us whole.  Unfortunately...well, sometimes..."

****

"The dwarf in question has other ideas?"  supplied Bilbo.

****

Balin laughed quietly.  "Aye, that's about as good an explanation as any, I suppose."

****

"And how does this pertain to the Lady Dís and Bofur, if I may be so bold?"

****

Shifting in his seat, Balin's eyes slid away from Bilbo's and he began gnawing at his knuckle.  Bilbo only folded his arms and waited expectantly.

****

"Lady Dís," and Balin was almost whispering, looking more uncomfortable than Bilbo had ever seen him, "Lady Dís fell in love with Bofur before marrying Fíli and Kíli's father. Thror forbid their union, as he was a commoner and she was to marry one of the nobles from the Iron Hills in order to solidify an alliance.  But more importantly..."

****

"Yes?"  Bilbo prompted after a moment.  He stepped forward and pulled an ottoman over, sitting in front of the dwarf.  "Please, what happened with Bofur?"

****

"He, Bofur, he - refused her."

****

Bilbo's eyes widened in shock, and he leaned away so quickly he nearly toppled off his seat.

****

" _Refused_ her??  Why in Eru's name would he do that?"

****

Balin looked at him sadly.

****

"Because, my dear hobbit, although he was her One, she was not his."


	7. More powerful than all your good intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo remains in Erebor, and he and Bofur have another encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> If you thought things had jumped the rails in the previous chapter, hang onto your hats.
> 
> Again, this just kind of happened...
> 
> But I regret nothing! Nothing regarding this story, anyway...

The autumn days grew shorter and colder and Bilbo decided, by not deciding, to remain in Erebor until at least the springtime.

Again, invitations from Rivendell and Mirkwood were forthcoming and again, they were politely but firmly turned down.  

The reasons were simple.  The revelation regarding Dís and Bofur made his head spin, and he realized wanted to know just what had happened between Thorin's sister and his former lover.  It was stunning to him that _no one_ had mentioned any of this to him, and he could not help but wonder _why,_ and what such silence truly meant.

Also, perhaps even more significantly, he decided he would not be run off from a place he was coming to consider his home.  A Baggins was nothing if not stubborn, and Bilbo found himself ready and willing to defend his right to stay in the dwarven kingdom, no matter how much the Lady Dís might disapprove of him and his daughter.

And therein lay the most important reason of all. Leaving now would rob Adana of her birthright; even if she would never rule, her father had fought and died so that Erebor might rise.  It seemed to the hobbit that it would be the worst kind of betrayal to leave now, under such circumstances; and Bilbo knew Thorin would not want him to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble, even if that trouble came in the form of his own kin.  And besides all of these emotional and political concerns, the fact was Adana was truly too young to undertake any sort of lengthy journey.

She also seemed so happy it made Bilbo loathe to leave, although by now he desperately missed Bag End and the Shire.  

In fact, he was worried enough about the treachery of the Sackville-Bagginses that he asked for and was granted leave to send a raven to the Thain, explaining he was not dead, but had only been detained in Erebor, where he was assisting in the rebuilding of the reclaimed kingdom.  It was close enough to the truth that he did not feel terribly guilty for bending reality a bit.

****

He did not mention his daughter.  Some things seemed best dealt with in person, after all.

****

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****

Bofur surprised him with a visit and a gift for Adana at Yuletime.

****

With the arrival of Dís in the summer, and her subsequent rejection of both him and his child, Bilbo had chosen to leave his modest rooms in the royal wing, where he had first settled, and move to the other side of the city.  It had the advantage of being closer to most of the Company, and even closer to the outside.  Bilbo quite enjoyed the small terrace off the master bedroom, and in no time had a thriving garden of which he was very proud (although he admitted to himself Hamfast Gamgee would have been able to do much better with the materials at hand).  His new home was also much closer to the library, where Bilbo spent a great deal of time assisting Ori in the organization of the manuscripts and books that had survived Smaug's devastation.

****

He had tried on several occasions to ask Ori about Dís and Bofur, but each time his efforts to engage the young dwarf were gently rebuffed.  

****

On the morning before Yule Day itself, the two were alone in the back stacks of the library, sorting the very few texts in Sindarin Erebor possessed.  Bilbo was especially helpful in this regard, as he had a solid working knowledge of the language.  The mood was light between the two, and after the usual pleasantries, and questions and comforting answers regarding Adana's well-being, Bilbo tried yet again.

****

"Ori, _please_ , will you not tell me what you know?" he asked softly.  "It is terribly awkward to be as closely involved in this situation as I am, and yet be totally in the dark about this!  Surely you can see that.  I have inadvertently made an enemy in Lady Dís, and I do not even understand what happened. Not fully, anyway."

****

Ori looked so unhappy as he shuffled in his seat, and carefully placed the large, leather-bound book he'd been holding on his lap aside.  He scratched his ear, looking so very like a child about to be scolded that Bilbo could only smile.

****

"Ah, Bilbo, you must know - this is not the stuff of idle gossip.  It was absolutely unprecedented, and it involved the Princess!  We dwarves are so private with any and all of our customs, even under the best of circumstances.  It just isn't anything I am able to discuss with you."  He looked positively crestfallen, as if he knew how badly he'd disappointed his friend.  "I'm so sorry, truly I am."

****

Bilbo stood and began pacing the aisle in which they were situated.

****

"But Ori, how else am I to learn the full truth?  If you will not tell me, then who?"

****

"I will."

****

They both whirled around to find Bofur standing at the end of the aisle, a pinched, sad look on his face, and a prettily carved wooden box in his hands.

****

"Oh, Bofur,"  Ori began, "please forgive me.  I swear to Mahal I would not have -"

****

"Bofur, it was me."  Bilbo said abruptly, placing his hand softly on the librarian's arm to ease the sting of his interruption.  

 

_A Baggins to the end_ , he thought ruefully.

****

"Ori has done nothing wrong," he continued, "and he was steadfast in his refusal to break your trust.  I was the one pressing the matter.  Forgiveness is mine to beg, not his."

****

Bofur stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, not seeming to know whether to stand or sit, or even to run out of the library altogether.

****

"There's no one here who needs forgivin', Master Baggins, least of all you."  He took a deep breath, held it, and whuffed it out loudly as he looked down at the box in his hands.  "Indeed, 'tis me who should be asking _your_ forgiveness for not explaining everything fully to you back in the Shire."

****

Bilbo cringed inwardly at the formal moniker, but said nothing.

****

Bofur looked beseechingly at Ori, who quickly picked up the volume he'd been holding from its resting place on the floor, and said, "If you will excuse me, I would like to finish restoring this section before the holiday tomorrow.  I do hope you understand.  If you need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to seek me out."

****

He began to back out of the aisle as quickly as possible, taking care not to step on any of the volumes scattered about.  When he reached the corner, he turned to leave, bowing rapidly, and added, "Happy Yule Day to you both, and to sweet Adana, Bilbo.  Please give her a kiss from me."

****

Bilbo smiled in spite of himself, his unease at Ori's departure soothed by the mention of his daughter.  

****

"Thank you, Ori.  Happy Yule to you as well, and to Dori and Nori too.  I look forward to seeing you all very soon."

****

Ori nodded at them both as Bofur quietly echoed Bilbo's sentiments, and then he disappeared around the stacks, leaving Bilbo and Bofur alone for the first time since all those long months ago at Thorin's tomb.

****

_Well_ , thought Bilbo wryly, _seems I must be more careful when I make a wish at Yuletime.  It just may come true._

****

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****

They stood in silence for a moment, until Bilbo could stand it no longer.

****

"Bofur, this is a pleasant surprise!" he said as cheerfully as he could.  "It has been many months, my friend.  I am very pleased to see you."  And as he said it, the truthfulness of the statement struck Bilbo.  He really _was_ happy to see the dwarf, although he was unsure as to what had prompted the visit, after no visits of any kind for so long.

****

He wanted rather desperately to ask Bofur about Dís, but since he had in fact been caught asking Ori that very thing, Bilbo felt he must be patient, and wait for Bofur to bring it up in his own time.  

_After all,_ reasoned Bilbo, _he now knows I am very interested in the story._

****

Bofur gave him a small, shy smile, and then dropped his eyes to his feet.  He shuffled them awkwardly, then held the wooden box in his hands out toward Bilbo.

****

"I know we have other things to discuss," he began, looking terribly uncomfortable but determined, "but first - Happy Yuletime, to you and your precious little daughter," he said softly.  He nervously cleared his throat before continuing, "I hope you don't mind.  I made a wee somethin' for her.  Didn't seem right, to not give her a special gift on her first Yule."

****

And with that, he gently wiggled the box he held, looking up and raising his eyebrows, indicating Bilbo should take it from him.  Bilbo did, carefully, and smiled a genuine smile at Bofur, pleased but also saddened to watch the dwarf's face light up in response.

****

"Oh, Bofur," Bilbo began, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the gesture, "you really shouldn't have.  How very kind of you, how thoughtful."  He ran one admiring hand over the intricately carved lid while balancing the box in his other hand.  "Is this - "

****

"Aye, it's meant to be Bag End", Bofur confirmed.  "Since your small one has not yet seen it, and you have been gone so long from it, I thought you might enjoy some representation of it, however insignificant."  

****

The light abruptly went out of the dwarf's eyes as he worriedly watched Bilbo's face, and he dropped his eyes again as he said, "I do hope I haven't offended you.  I hope you find it accurate enough to enjoy.  I only saw it the one time and, well - " and now he looked downright embarrassed. "I had other things on my mind that night."  

****

He coughed and looked for all the world as if he hoped the floor would open up and swallow him.  "I just hope it looks at least a little as you remember it."

****

Bilbo smiled warmly again, and said quietly "Bofur, I shall be honored to have this be the way in which Adana first sees Bag End.  Thank you, so very much, for this.  It will be very dear to her, I'm sure."

****

Bofur relaxed slightly, only to stiffen up again as he said, "Well, the real gift is inside yet."

****

"May I?" asked Bilbo as he looked up, setting the box on Ori's abandoned stool and settling in next to it.

****

Bofur swallowed nervously, but he nodded and then stood back a bit, as if he feared whatever lay within.

****

_How odd_ , thought Bilbo as he opened the lid.   _It's not as if he doesn't know what -_

****

And then all thoughts flew from his mind as he looked inside the box.

****

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****

Nestled inside, gently surrounded by soft blue velvet, was a beautifully carved figure of Thorin.  It was made from wood, the face both painted and carved, and it was dressed in an almost exact replica of the dwarf king's traveling clothes, including his fur-lined cloak.  It was an absolute work of art, a thing of great beauty that had clearly been made with love, and Bilbo felt all the breath squeeze out of his body and his vision go gray as he struggled not to faint.

****

The likeness was so precise, so well-achieved, that it was impossible to look on the figure and not feel Thorin's majesty, not hear the sound of his voice, strong and raspy and so very warm.

****

He had been so joyful, so swept away with happiness when Bilbo had shared the news of the child they'd created together taking hold.  And now on this, the first Yuletime under the Mountain in decades, and Thorin was not here to celebrate it with him and his child.  There was only this doll, this incredibly life-like statue of his love, and the father of his little dwobbit.

****

Bilbo closed his eyes against the press of tears that threatened to overtake him, and felt a completely irrational surge of anger towards Bofur.  Dear, well-intentioned Bofur, who'd wanted nothing more than to make Adana happy.  Who had inadvertently brought up so many emotions in Bilbo the hobbit feared he might drown in them.

****

He could hear Bofur dimly in the distance, saying his name, but he could not find the strength of will to respond.  He just wanted the dwarf to leave, before he did or said something he knew he would regret.  He tried to take a deep breath to ground himself, but the air strangled in his throat and he felt only more dizzy. He bent in half, clutching the doll to his chest and attempted once more to inhale.  This time the air swooped in and filled his lungs...and what came out again was a loud sob.  And then another.  And another.

****

He was not aware Bofur had left the library until some time later.

 


	8. A comfortable silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo seeks out Bofur to offer an apology.

It was well into the winter when Bilbo finally sought Bofur out.

****

He had learned from Ori that the miner spent most mornings inspecting mines that were not yet operational, ones still filled with debris from Smaug's occupation of Erebor.  His afternoons were generally spent doing paperwork, or attending meeting regarding the reopening of said mines.  So after much careful thought, Bilbo decided to approach him at luncheon time in the hopes of catching him between his duties.

****

Bofur was sitting surrounded by other miners when Bilbo entered the dining hall, in the midst of a story that had most of his audience roaring with laughter.  Bilbo kept to the shadows for a bit, simply watching Bofur tell his story, something about a donkey, three dwarves and a barrel of ale that Bilbo knew, without even knowing the story, was lewd, crude and most likely hilarious.  

****

He saw deep admiration and affection in the faces of the miners as they listened to Bofur and laughed at his tale, and Bilbo felt a strange sort of pride glow in his belly.  He had not been wrong to care for Bofur.  There was definitely something special about him, something remarkable, and all the dwarves in the dining hall could clearly see it as well.

****

He watched Bofur himself, his eyes sparkling and his hands animated as he gesticulated wildly to illustrate his story.  Bilbo noticed he was dressed much more finely than he had been on the quest - the result, no doubt, of more wealth than a dwarf like Bofur would know what to do with.  The brocade on his long vest was particularly fine, gold and green with tiny vines embroidered delicately throughout.  

****

He did however, Bilbo noted with amusement, still have on his old hat.  

****

The obvious completion of the story, marked by an enormous wave of laughter and scattered applause, pulled Bilbo from his musings, and he stepped out from the shadows and made his way toward Bofur as the large group began to dissipate.  

****

Bofur was grinning widely at a young-looking dwarf, one hand gripping the dwarf's shoulder warmly, when he looked over and saw Bilbo.  

****

Instantly his whole demeanor changed.  He quickly dropped his hand and his expression clouded over, and Bilbo had a moment to regret surprising the dwarf in such a manner, considering the way they had last parted, before Bofur said, "Bilbo!  Whatever are - I mean, I...how...how are you?"

****

The dwarf to whom Bofur had been speaking turned to regard Bilbo when he saw Bofur's attention shift, and his expression grew cool when he saw who it was who had distracted the miner.

****

Bilbo could clearly see _this_ dwarf, at least, was aware of some of the history between him and Bofur, and was not at all approving. He felt terribly uncomfortable and exposed, but pressed on nevertheless to say, "Bofur.  I wanted - well, I _needed_ to...to...apologize to you."

****

He took a deep breath and held it, waiting.  The silence grew longer, and longer still, and Bilbo had to fight the wild urge to run from the hall, leaving the awkwardness and vulnerability he was now feeling behind. Why, why, _why_ had he chosen to do this when Bofur was surrounded by dwarves who were strangers to him?  Who _knew_ what they had heard, or been told, perhaps even by Bofur himself?  He had not felt like such an outsider since the very first days of the quest and, just as he had then, he looked desperately to Bofur to provide some solace, and to act as a bridge of sorts between his unease and the stern, strange faces.

****

The irony of the situation was not lost on him.

****

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****

"It was such a very kind thing that you did, and I reacted so horribly.  Please, you must forgive me."  Bilbo sat on one of the dining hall benches, the hall itself now empty of all but him and Bofur, and looked across the table at the dwarf. Bofur sat straight, but his whole demeanor was that of one dreadfully uncomfortable, and it was not hard to see the miner wished to be anywhere but where he currently found himself.

****

"Bilbo, please, you don't have to apologize -" he began, but Bilbo, unable to help himself, interrupted.

****

"I do!  I most certainly do!  For you to have gone to such lengths for Adana, only to have me behave in such a manner...well, it's simply not acceptable.  A Baggins should never be so rude!"

****

This led Bofur to smile a bit, albeit wanly, and he said quietly, "It's not rude to be upset by such a thing as I made for you.  Truly, I don't know what I was thinkin'.  You have my humblest apologies -"

****

"Bofur, please - stop!"  Bilbo could hardly contain himself.  "I simply _cannot_ abide you apologizing for such a beautiful, thoughtful gift!"

****

"How can you say such a thing was beautiful?" Bofur asked, looking almost ill.  "It made you weep in such a way I'd not seen since - well..."

****

Bilbo winced, realizing the time Bofur must be referring to.  Before he could think, he reached across the wooden table and grasped Bofur's hand in his two smaller ones.  Squeezing hard, he looked straight into Bofur's eyes, willing the dwarf to understand.

****

"I was shocked, yes," he said urgently, squeezing Bofur's hand even tighter.  "The likeness is absolutely uncanny, and I had no idea what to expect when I opened your gift."  Smiling a little, he chastised warmly, "Only you gave me no warning, you know."

****

Bofur shifted in his seat, trying to gently pull his hand away, but Bilbo clung to it.

****

"But Bofur," he continued, lowering his voice, "I have never in all my life received such a magnificent gift. Please know, _please,_ how much my child loves what you've made, the box and the figure both, and because of you," and here the hobbit stopped, swallowing hard as tears pricked his eyes and a lump rose in his throat, "because of you, she will know what her adad looked like."  

****

Bofur closed his eyes and hung his head down, and when Bilbo saw the tears running down his face he could no longer stop his own from falling.

****

"Because of _you_ , she will know some of how majestic and strong and... _beautiful_ he was, how regal his bearing, how - " but he could not continue, his weeping too heavy to allow words.

****

And still Bofur tried to gently pull away, and still Bilbo would not let him.

****

They sat like that, tears rolling down their faces, hands clasped across the table, for some time, until Bilbo managed to say,

****

"Bofur, if you will not accept my apology, please - accept my thanks.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

****

And at that, Bofur finally looked up and smiled.  

****

And for the first time in a very long time, Bilbo saw that the smile reached his eyes, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who have read, left kudos and taken the time to comment! I feel so fortunate, and it's incredibly appreciated.
> 
> Just wanted to say that.


	9. See me as if for the first time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur rekindle their friendship, and Bilbo makes a curious choice.

After that, Bilbo made a point of visiting Bofur on a fairly regular basis, and of bringing Adana with him more often than not. The dwarf was undeniably good with the little dwobbit, completely at ease as he swung her around, made her laugh with tickles and silly faces and delighted her with remarkable toys he carved himself, oftentimes while she watched, fascinated.

****

Her first birthday was celebrated in grand fashion, with all of the remaining Company in attendance.  

****

Bombur, clearly in acknowledgment of his brother's warming relationship with Bilbo, brought his entire family, all twelve dwarflings, and Bilbo was reminded of birthdays in the Shire, surrounded by so many laughing, shrieking, running little ones.  A pang of homesickness pained his heart briefly, and then he saw how very happy his daughter was; crawling about, clapping her hands and laughing her great, glorious belly laughs.  She was trying as best she could to keep up with Bombur's brood, and Bilbo had dressed her for the occasion in a sweet little smock of Durin blue and silver Dori had made as a birthday gift.

****

Without quite knowing when it had happened, he realized, he had made a home for them both under the mountain.  He was surrounded by a family of his choosing who loved him, and whom he loved in return.  

****

And no matter what lingering awkwardness remained between Bilbo and the Ur family, there was no question they, and the rest of the Company, all adored his child.  He watched as Bifur lifted her onto his shoulders and carried her around as she squealed and pulled on his hair.  The look of infinite patience and contentment on his face made Bilbo's heart swell, and he wondered if it was possible he might never wish to return to the Shire.  Certainly, he no longer felt much desire to do so anytime soon.  He looked into his heart and saw that he would not be able to bear being parted from this family, nor would he be able to bear parting his child from it.

****

_Strange,_ he mused as he watched Dwalin scoop Adana and Bombur's youngest into his lap where they proceeded to chew on his beard, _strange how things turn out.  When you think you know just how your life will unfold, the most unexpected things lie just outside your door._

****

He looked around and spied Bofur, laughing as three of his nephews tried to pull him up out of his seat to come play hide and seek with them.

****

Bofur allowed himself to be led, and as he moved across the room his eyes met Bilbo's. He smiled, tentatively at first and then more broadly when the hobbit returned the smile.

****

_The most unexpected things,_ Bilbo mused, and then turned to go retrieve his gurgling child from a rather exhausted-looking Dwalin.

****

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****

Bofur was there when she took her first real steps, as it turned out.  

****

It was late autumn, right around the second anniversary of Durin's Day in the newly resettled kingdom, and it had been clear to Bilbo for several weeks that the milestone was right around the corner.  She had been pulling herself up on the furniture and balancing on a regular basis for quite some time, and even walking about, so long as she could hold onto something.  It was only a matter of time, Bilbo knew.

****

It was the lure of a new toy, and Bofur himself, that did the trick.

****

Bilbo helped her balance on one side of the small toy shop he had convinced Bofur to open (now that so many of the mines were up and running), and Bofur placed himself several paces away, holding a freshly carved wooden pony Adana had been coveting.

****

She took one wobbly step, with Bilbo holding her arms, then another...and then he let go.

****

Three precarious, but independent, steps later, she fell into Bofur's arms, clutching at the pony with its tail finding its way immediately into her mouth.

****

Bofur whooped with delight and Bilbo laughed and clapped, stepping over and swooping Adana up in his arms.  She wrapped a chubby arm around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, laughing along with him.  

****

Then, before he knew what was happening, she'd reached out to wrap her other arm around Bofur's neck, and sat triumphantly, held by Bilbo between the two of them.  

****

They were so close Bilbo could see the flecks of gold in the dwarf's eyes and, without thinking, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips softly to Bofur's, just for the briefest instant.

****

They sprang apart as if scalded, so quickly that Adana squawked in surprise, and Bilbo hurriedly set her down, keeping his back to Bofur as he tried to collect his thoughts.  His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to pinpoint his rationale for doing such a thing, but his thoughts flew about in his head and resisted any effort on his part to organize and decipher them.

****

He chanced a look behind him at Bofur, only to see the dwarf standing frozen in the very spot Bilbo had left him, his eyes wide and stunned.

****

They took each other in for a long moment, and then Bofur broke the silence between them with a quiet, "Bilbo...?"

****

But Bilbo found he did not know what to say.


	10. Forgive my presumptions, for my heart brims with confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo struggles to understand his feelings, and chooses to confront Dís.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both this chapter and the one before it are rather short...so have two! Happy Saturday!

Once again, winter came about and once again, Bilbo found himself unwilling to leave Erebor.

****

By now, Adana was thoroughly settled into her life in the dwarven kingdom.  She was boisterous, curious, loud and cheerful, and every time Bilbo thought he could not possibly love her more, he was proven wrong. To love another being so unconditionally, so utterly completely - well, there had been only one other for whom he had felt such a depth of emotion, and Bilbo was both warmed and saddened by that comparison.

****

He and Bofur continued to see each other, although not as regularly as before their kiss.

****

Bilbo had no justification for his behavior that day, and Bofur had not pressed him.  Examining his feelings later, once he had had a chance to untangle the myriad of thoughts and emotions...and, yes, desires that were wrapped around each other in his heart, he had come to the conclusion that he was of two minds.

****

One part of him was very content being a father to his daughter, and a friend to the dwarves of Thorin's Company. He was perfectly satisfied with his life and, in the wake of his beloved's death, he felt no need for companionship of anything other than the platonic kind.

****

But another, smaller, quietly fierce part of him _did_ desire closeness, and tenderness...the kind which could only be found in a passionate embrace.

****

His dilemma was simply - did he desire that with _Bofur?_  Or did he simply desire it?

****

And if he _did_  desire it with Bofur, was it enough to risk almost certain rejection?  And would he truly be able to move beyond the memory of Thorin, who had left such an enormous emptiness in Bilbo's soul?

****

And, beyond all these concerns, there was the still unexamined situation with Dís.

****

All this together served to render the hobbit incapable of action.  And so he stayed in Erebor and waited.

****

And hoped he would know what to do when the time came.

****

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****

For the third time since Thorin's death, winter melted into spring, and Bilbo knew a decision had to be made.

****

He made a formal request, through her staff, for a private audience with Lady Dís.  That he was granted time so quickly spoke volumes to him.

****

The day of their morning meeting arrived, and while it would have made the most sense to leave Adana with Bofur, with whom she was most comfortable, Bilbo chose instead to call upon Ori for aid. He had not told the toymaker of his plans and, accordingly, felt no small amount of guilt and discomfort, taking action that was so blatantly behind his friend's back.

****

But after thinking long and hard, Bilbo had decided he wanted to hear from Dís first, so that he would truly be able to focus on whatever her version of the truth was, without any preconceived notions based on whatever someone he cared deeply for had told him.

****

And, though the hobbit was loath to admit it to himself, he was simply not ready to ask Bofur something so intimate.  After a season of indecision, he was no closer to understanding how he truly felt about the dwarf and, in the wake of his presumptuous kiss, he could not bear to approach Bofur about much of anything without first supplying him with an explanation for his behavior.

 

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****

The rooms Dís had taken for her own had been, in Old Erebor, the royal suite of her mother and father: incredibly vast, with grand sweeping ceilings studded with jewels which mimicked the constellations in the sky; and Bilbo could not help but marvel at the time and effort it must have taken to not only create the rooms in the first place, but restore them for the princess's comfort.

****

_So  much energy for one individual,_ he thought to himself, and wondered briefly how Thorin would have behaved had he lived. Would _he_ have asked such a thing of the first settlers of New Erebor, to spend an enormous amount of time clearing and refurbishing rooms meant only for his (and presumably Bilbo and Adana's) comfort?  Or would he have been content to live in far more modest quarters, patient enough to wait until all his people were settled and comfortable before moving ahead with something that seemed so frivolous, at least to Bilbo's hobbit sensibilities?

****

He reminded himself to focus, and to keep an open mind and heart, as he sat waiting for Dís in her drawing room.  There was no sense in judging her against what Thorin may or may not have done and, either way, Thorin was not here.  

****

And it was past time to find some answers.

****

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****

She was as beautiful and as cool as he remembered.

****

All these months since her return to Erebor found her dressed quite finely in Durin blue, her gown formal yet functional, with silver embroidery on the sleeves and neckline, and tiny diamonds sewn into the hem.  

****

Her blonde hair, _so like Fili's_ , Bilbo thought with a tug at his heart, was braided intricately and twisted in a large knot fixed at the nape of her neck.  Her beard was braided as well, and Bilbo could not help but notice she wore Durin beads, just like Thorin's, in it.

****

He found that more upsetting than he would have imagined.

****

Her dark brown eyes sized him up, unblinking, as they both stood regarding each other.  After a long moment, she sat...but did not invite him to do the same.

****

Bilbo stood uncomfortably, looking into eyes that were deceptively like Kili's, but without his warmth and sweetness, and tried to remember how he had planned to start this conversation.

****

He needn't have bothered.

****

"If you knew, Hobbit, how often I have dreamt of you dead, you would not dare set foot in these rooms."

****

And Bilbo felt the first tingles of real fear.

 


	11. Live with jealously, learn to envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is stunned to discover the truth of the relationship between Dís and Bofur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, folks...enjoy! This is another short-ish chapter. Next one is longer...

"I loved him first, you know."

Her eyes grew dark as obsidian, and within them glowed a fierceness that reminded Bilbo unexpectedly of Thorin. The feeling was welcome, as the hobbit felt deeply uneasy alone with the princess.  He did everything in his power to wrap himself in this memory of the dwarven king's ferocity, using it as a shield against his sister's wrath.

"He came to Ered Luin with his brother and his brother's family when I was but a lass, and I knew. From first I saw him, I knew. I cared not that he was a miner and a toymaker, that his people were as common as dirt, and had been wandering even longer than we had. I cared not that he had nothing, that he was being slowly defeated by the steady grind of poverty.

"I cared not that he did not see me in the same way.

I knew that he _would_ , one day, and I had only to be patient."

She paused to sip from a cup of tea on her desk, and Bilbo stood, silent, and waited.

The silence grew, and for the first time since he had known her, Bilbo saw that Dís was beginning to fray at the edges. Her manner seemed less steely than brittle, and her voice was rough, as if she were holding off tears through sheer force of will.

"As time went on, however, and the years passed, I began to despair he would ever want me in the way I wanted him. And then -"

And here she broke off, looking beyond Bilbo into a past he knew nothing about. She blinked away tears, and Bilbo stood awkwardly, desperately trying to keep his face neutral, while inside he was stunned, absolutely stunned, at this display of vulnerability.

He felt torn between wanting to offer clearly needed comfort, yet knowing full well his offer would be staunchly and coldly refused.

And, in the back of all that, he longed for a chair.

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She composed herself quickly, and swiveled her eyes back to Bilbo. She said nothing, but gestured, finally, for him to sit.

He did, stiffly, and waited.

"Has he never told you what happened?" she asked him directly.

Bilbo shook his head, and she smiled without humour.

"One might ask how close you were, if he kept such a thing from you."

Bilbo said nothing.

"There was a mine collapse. He was trapped for four days before rescue could reach him. They were certain he and his companions could not have survived, but I refused to let them stop searching until they had at least recovered the bodies. I would not believe him dead."

Bilbo gave up all pretense of neutrality, and openly gaped in shock. 

_Oh, Bofur,_ he thought.   _How could you not tell me?_

_And are you so certain you gave him opportunity?_ another part of his mind whispered. _How long were you together before you broke his heart? How many chances did he have to share such a thing with you, before you threw him over for Thorin?_

Dís smiled again, bitterly, as if she could read his mind.

"Of the four that were trapped, only Bofur had survived. I was convinced it was because of me, that such a terrifying ordeal had made him realize his love for me, and all his excuses and concerns would fade away like a dream upon waking. That _we_ would be the one good thing to come out of such a tragedy, destined for the kind of love about which ballads are written.

"So as you can imagine," and with this she fixed Bilbo with such a look as to make the hobbit's blood run cold, "my heart was broken long before you killed my family."

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"He lived, and was rescued by my faith alone, and yet still he did not love me. I all but threw myself at him, pleading for any scrap of affection, any chance he saw fit to favor me with, and yet still he denied me."

She spoke almost formally, as if laying out her grievances before a court of law, instead of one she viewed as a rival. Bilbo marveled at her composure, for surely it could not be easy to admit such things to one she so ardently despised.

"It was only after repeated effort on my part, and a sense of guilt and responsibility on his, that he agreed to take me to his bed."

At this Bilbo's eyebrows shot nearly off his face, and once again his incredulous expression was naked and uncensored.

Dís appeared almost amused as she said, "Could you have believed you were the first and only? That he came to you untried, pure as the driven snow? I assure you there were many before and after me, and likely several more even after _you_ , Master Hobbit.

"Or am I to interpret your bafflement as a reflection of your views on my worthiness? Should I be insulted you seem so shocked he would deign to lie with me?"

_Tread carefully, Bilbo,_ the hobbit thought to himself. _One misstep here will have grave consequences, for you and for Adana._

"Lady Dís," he began, "Forgive my surprise. Frankly, until your return to the mountain I had no idea you and Bofur were even acquainted, much less involved...and since that time, I had been led to believe your love was - " and here he swallowed hard, proceeding cautiously, "was - well, _unrequited_ in nature. I was not given to understand you had been intimate in any way, or that he returned your affection. Please excuse my bluntness, but that is the honest truth of it."

She simply looked at him, and he fought the urge to fidget, doing his best to look back calmly.

"Well, it seems you are nothing if not well-versed in all manner of assumptions and misconceptions," she said flatly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Misconceptions," she repeated sharply. "He may have fucked me, often and very well, but in no way did he love me.

"It was, as you so delicately put it, 'unrequited in nature.'"

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Bilbo's head swam, and he strove desperately to clear his mind of the image of Bofur coupling with Dís, passionless and perfunctory. That dwarf bore no resemblance to the cheery soul he'd met at Bag End, or even to the quieter and more sober creature he'd become in the wake of Bilbo and Thorin's union. He was utterly unable to reconcile the two in his head, and was well aware that much was obvious to Dís.

"He is a skilled lover, is he not? It was almost possible for me to believe he cared for me...that he had begun to love me, the way he touched me. I longed for him so desperately I nearly went mad with it. My yearning for him only grew more pressing with each encounter. Nothing seemed to sate my desire."

Her voice grew lower, and Bilbo sensed he was standing on the edge of a precipice; that whatever Dís chose to tell him next would change everything.

He suddenly wanted her to stop - wanted her to rise and demand he leave, and keep whatever secrets she had left to reveal locked away.

But he knew it was far too late.

"I grew frantic to bind him to me, somehow, because I could sense he was slipping away, even as he moved within me. I knew I was not what he wanted, and sooner or later his feelings of gratitude would give way to something darker and more distant. So I decided to force his hand.

I decided to bear his child."


	12. The infinite curse of a lonely heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo learns the rest of Dís's secrets, and the true depth of her anger.

Bilbo opened his mouth, to say _what_ he did not know, and then closed it again.  His hand shook as he toyed with his cuff, his mind repeating over and over _it cannot be it cannot be it cannot be._

_**** _

_Does Bofur know?_ he wondered.   _Did Fili know?_

****

_Gods, did_ Thorin _know?_

****

When he had composed himself enough to look up at her again, he found Dís watching him, still and silent.

****

The mountain had never felt so quiet, as if every being within it had drawn breath and was now holding it, waiting for whatever was next.  Her revelation had made the entire world grind to a halt; and it paused, suspended, for her to spur it into motion again with the rest of her secrets.

****

"Knowing he would never agree, I kept my plan to myself.  And despite our people's well-known trials with fertility, I quickened almost immediately.  But on the day I was to have told him, when I knew with certainty..."

****

She stopped, and Bilbo, almost against his will, leaned forward in his seat.  He noticed her hands clench shut, fists trembling, and watched as she forced them open again and lay them flat, palms down, on the desk.

****

"I was betrayed."

****

Bilbo could not help himself.  

****

"Betrayed?  By whom?  Lady Dís, please, what happened?"

****

Her eyes darkened further, her fury almost palpable, and Bilbo felt light-headed, grateful he was not the object of her passion at the moment.

****

"My servant.  She had been with me since I was a child, and until that day I foolishly believed she would have died for me.  She discovered what I was up to, and she knew when my monthly bleeding had stopped.  It was she who told my father.

****

"My father was..." she laughed darkly, "less than pleased."

****

Bilbo's head spun, and, perhaps most surprisingly, he found his heart pulled toward her.  What pain, to love so fiercely, only to be continually denied and then, when it seemed as if there _might_ be a way - no matter how flawed - to be utterly broken in such a cruel, final way...well, Bilbo could simply not imagine it.

****

"What did he do?" he asked gently.

****

"Arranged for me to marry a lesser noble, someone willing to father another's bastard in exchange for an elevation in status, and commanded me never to tell..."  - she paused, and audibly swallowed -  "never to tell the child's father the truth.

****

"In return, my grandfather Thror vowed he would not kill him."

****

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****

Bilbo felt faint.   _Bofur, Bofur,_ he thought, _how could you have done such things?_

****

_How could you never have told me?_

****

To think the dwarf could have been executed for his affair with the Durin princess!  An affair he was beguiled into, one he did not desire.  

****

The hobbit had so very many questions he hardly knew where to begin, but he elected to remain silent, and waited to see what else, if anything, she would choose to reveal next.

****

After a moment, she continued.

****

"I had been promised to a lord of the Iron Hills when I was but a dwarfling, to solidify our alliance, as Thror had never trusted Dain's father.  That was now impossible, as I was already with child.  There was talk of sending me to the Ironfists, who were...less particular about such things, where my status as a daughter of Durin would have outweighed the shame of my condition.

****

"There was talk of exile.

****

"There was never any talk that I might be allowed to remain with my One, if he would have me.  I was a princess, and he was a miner.  To my family, it was as simple as that.

****

"In the end, it was Thorin who convinced my father and Thror to marry me off to Lord Víli, who was more than willing and whose silence was easy to buy.  

****

"Only a trusted few knew what had happened. Balin, as advisor to the King.  Dwalin, as Thorin's best friend, and Dori, as our family's majordomo."

****

_Well,_ Bilbo realized, _that explains how Ori knows._

_**** _

But it did not explain one thing.

****

"Bofur.  Did you...does...does Bofur know?"

****

Dís shook her head, her eyes distant.

****

"I kept my vow.  I never told him anything.  Whether or not he sorted things out on his own, I could not tell you.  We have not spoken since the last time we lay together, almost eighty years ago."

****

After a moment, she added quietly, "Had I told him that last night, rather than deciding to wait, I do not like to think what might have happened."

****

Bilbo shuddered, tacitly agreeing and thanking the Valar for the fortuitous timing.  For surely if Bofur had known Dis was expecting his child, he would have fought for her hand.

****

And very likely lost his head in the process

****

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****

"We were married quickly, a passionate story manufactured and spread by Dori, who also commissioned a ballad celebrating the great love of Dís and Víli.  It was all very romantic, to those inclined toward such foolishness."

****

She was remarkably level as she recounted this, not nearly so bitter as Bilbo would have anticipated.  He could not help but feel more and more ill at ease, as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

****

"The reality was not harsh so much as it was dull.  Víli was unexceptional in every way, but he was not unkind, and he gave me another son five years after Fíli was born.  For many years, I learned to be content with what happiness I was allowed.

****

"Until Thorin set his sights on regaining Erebor.

****

"And until, distracted by a pregnant _hobbit_ " - the word almost spat out, as if it tasted of ash on her tongue - "he allowed himself and my children to be slaughtered like lambs upon the altar."

****

_Ah,_ thought Bilbo. _And now we get to the heart of the matter._

****

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****

"My lady," Bilbo began, "please know -"

****

"Know what?" she interrupted coldly.  "Do you deny you told him of your... _condition_ prior to the battle?"

****

Bilbo shook his head.  "I do not deny anything, Lady Dís.  It was the only way I knew to try to break through his madness and ensure he not lead our company of only fourteen to certain death against the Elves and Men."

****

She snorted derisively, saying, "And what do you know of gold sickness, Master Hobbit?  Enough to know the only way to protect my brother was to tell him the one thing nearly assured to distract him so completely he would be left vulnerable in the heat of battle?  The one thing he would be unable to chase from his mind, the one thing certain to preoccupy him and destroy his focus?"

****

"Lady Dís, please -" and Bilbo could hear the pleading tone in his voice - "I told him in the hopes I could pierce through the sickness, and give him something to live for."

****

"He did not need you and that child to live for!" she nearly shrieked. "He had Fíli!  And Kíli!  He had _me!_ "

****

Bilbo closed his eyes.  He feared saying any more would only drive her further into rage.

****

"Instead," she continued, her voice harsh and nearly shrill, "he charged into battle, emboldened with the promise of a child, _his_ child, and took risks he should not have taken. He forced my children, my _sons_ , to take those risks with him.  They were sworn to protect him to their dying breath, he _knew_ that, and he should have...he should have _protected_ them, not dragged them into his mad lust for Azog's head.  He let your confession give him false hope, as if proof his line would not now die with him meant he himself would not die either.

****

"And he was _wrong!_  He killed _all_ of them, and for what?  A hobbit lover, a child he will never know and a kingdom now ruled by our cousin. And all because _you_ could not keep your legs closed and your mouth shut."

****

She fell silent, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.  Bilbo kept his eyes down, looking at his hands, waiting for her to either continue or tell him to leave.

****

His mind groped desperately at everything he had been told, trying to find some sense of order, some way to proceed through the turmoil pressing down on him.

****

He did not know what he had expected, but it had not been this.

****

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****

They sat in silence for a long while.

****

Bilbo was acutely uncomfortable, and wanted nothing more than to hold his daughter to his chest, to envelope himself in her warmth and drive all memory of this terrible day out of his mind.

****

The hobbit had no point of reference for such hostility and bitterness, and he felt his soul shrinking under her continued assault.  The room had begun to feel confining, and he grew steadily more nervous as time went on.

****

And still, she simply sat there, watching him, not speaking.

****

Finally, he could no longer stand it.

****

"Lady Dís, for all you perceive I have done to wrong you, I give you my heartfelt apologies.  I had hoped we might find a common language in our grief.  I loved your brother with all that I had and all that I am, and his loss still reverberates in every fiber of my being."

****

His passion was met with stillness, but he continued.

****

"And your sons...Lady Dís, your sons were so loved by me, please believe that.  They were the bravest warriors I have every known, and yet they showed me nothing but kindness.  Your pride in them is well-founded.  Fíli would have been a magnificent king.  He was thoughtful, wise beyond his years, patient and observant, and his love for his brother did him credit.  

 

"And Kíli!"  Bilbo felt his throat grow tight, the memories beginning to overpower what remained of his tattered self-control.  "I have never met one so full of spirit and joy, with such boundless enthusiasm, and a reckless spirit tempered by a desire to make his brother and his uncle proud.  And he did.  They _both_ did.  Your brother loved them so."

****

He forced himself to stop, the weight of her silence crushing the air out of his chest.  He could feel his entire body, tight as a bow string, almost quiver as he waited for some response, _any_ response.

****

But still, she said nothing.

****

Bilbo's heart beat so fiercely in his chest he thought it must be visible.

****

And then -

****

"Are you finished?"

****

He nodded, defeated.

****

"Such pretty words about my kin.  I would take great comfort in them, had they come from anyone but you."

****

"Please," Bilbo whispered.  "Please."

****

She stood, and the finality of the gesture was clear.

****

"It occurs to me," she said, deceptively gentle, "that for some reason _my_ choice of a mate was deemed unbefitting a Princess of Durin's blood, and yet my brother chose a partner not even of our race, and was met with naught but approval and blessings.

****

"Strange, is it not?"

****

She started toward the door, then stopped and turned back to him.

****

"I trust I have assuaged your curiosity and answered your questions.  And now I would ask that you never again speak to me after today, for I have naught to say to you."  She hesitated briefly, then drew a deep breath and said more quietly,  "When your...child comes of age, she may come to me for training as befits her lineage."  

 

She smiled, but it was grim, and it was not reflected in her eyes.  "Halfbreed she may be, but I will honor my brother's memory and look to the Durin in her blood.  

****

"Until that time, I want nothing to do with either of you.  

 

"I would only warn you - my reach is long.  If you continue to hurt him, you will feel it."

****

She then left, and Bilbo was alone in the room.  It was a long time before he was able to move, and even longer before he realized something.

****

Dís had never once called Bofur by name.

 


	13. Forgive my fear, it leaves me frozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo considers all he has learned, but makes a grave misstep along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tad short...but it ends on a cliffhanger!
> 
> (Wait, that doesn't make you feel better...?)

In the aftermath of his meeting with Lady Dís Bilbo was left reeling and even more confused about his feelings than he had been previously.  He realized in many ways, even armed with this new knowledge of what exactly had transpired all those years ago in Ered Luin, he was still not ready to discuss anything with Bofur. They saw each other less and less, as Bilbo created flimsy excuses for avoiding the dwarf until eventually Bofur stopped asking.

Adana made her displeasure with this very apparent.

Bilbo eventually relented enough to allow her to spend time alone with Bofur in his shop upon occasion, although he continued to regretfully decline anytime Bofur sought _his_ company as well.

Dís had made it clear what the stakes were, but more than that, Bilbo wanted to be certain. He needed clarity on the emotions that had prompted that kiss, and he had yet to decipher how her revelations affected his rekindling desires for the toymaker.

But most importantly, and regardless of Dís, he was very aware of the pain he'd caused Bofur in the past when his affections had changed, and wanted nothing more than to never hurt him like that again.

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The days grew warmer and longer, and summer gently graced the mountain once again.

The once empty, ravaged landscape was slowly coming to life , more so with each passing year. The sight of it filled Bilbo with the gratitude and comfort all hobbits felt for growing things, and a heart-wrenching sadness that Thorin was not here to see and enjoy the continuing rebirth of the kingdom for which he'd fought so hard.

Their daughter continued to be a source of joy and delight to both Bilbo and the entire Company, and the hobbit still found great satisfaction in assisting Ori in the library and serving as a part-time ambassador to Dale and Mirkwood.

He had fallen into a comfortable pattern with Bofur regarding his daughter.  Several times a week, usually when he was working, he would drop Adana at Bofur's toy shop, where she would spend the day with the dwarf until Bilbo returned to retrieve her for dinner.

The convenience of this situation was two-fold, of course: his daughter was able to spend time with someone who'd grown very dear to her, and Bilbo was able to continually avoid examining how dear Bofur was growing again to _him_.

All this convenience came to an abrupt halt one midsummer day when Bilbo went to pick up Adana, and found Bofur hunched over a crisp piece of parchment.

The hobbit knocked hesitantly on the frame of the open door, suddenly feeling as if he were interrupting something extraordinarily private.

"Hello," he said softly. "Bofur...? I'm here."

Adana heard him and let out a gleeful squeal, rushing toward him on chubby legs. Bilbo bent over and lifted her almost absently, his eyes fixed on Bofur's lowered head.

"Bofur? Is everything all right?"

The dwarf looked up and Bilbo gasped.

The dwarf's eyes were red-rimmed and tears streaked his face.

But it was his expression...oh, his _expression._ Bilbo thought he would never see the day when Bofur would look at him with anger.

He had been wrong.

"Fíli...was my son...?" Bofur breathed, and Bilbo flinched.

"He was my son...and you _knew?_   Have known for _weeks_ and said nothing?"

"Bofur, please - "

"Get out." Bilbo could see Bofur was reining in his fury because of Adana's presence, and he was fleetingly grateful she was there to spare him the worst of the toymaker's rage.

Bofur strode forcefully over to him, and Bilbo had to steel himself not to take a step backwards. The dwarf leaned over and gently kissed the little dwobbit on her head, saying, "I shall see you soon, sweetling. And I'll have that wee bear ready for you, too."

When he looked up at Bilbo, all traces of gentleness were gone, and only dark emptiness remained.

"Go. Now. And please don't come here yourself next time. Ask someone else to bring her. I cannot bear to see you right now.

"You...you've broken my heart. Again _._ "

The shop door quietly clicked shut in his face.


	14. Tell me to leave, and yet I remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo thinks long and hard about his feelings, and comes to a conclusion, with some guidance from Ori.

The next several days were the darkest Bilbo had experienced since the death of Thorin.

He honored Bofur's request and conscripted Ori to take Adana to the toy shop the next morning on his way to the library. He and Ori then spent the day in awkward silences and stilted conversation while continuing to reorganize the texts left undamaged by the dragon, until Ori returned to Bofur's at the end of the day to bring Adana back home.

The following day Bilbo took Adana to Dale, and the day after outside to play in the large meadows that were beginning to bloom at the foot of the mountain.

The day after _that_ , Ori once again escorted Adana to Bofur's shop, and took her back home after he and Bilbo were finished for the day.

The next fortnight passed in a similar manner - Bilbo would spend one or two days with his daughter, and then she would spend a day with Bofur, each time being dropped off and picked up by Ori.

Ori never asked, and Bilbo never offered.

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"He's so unhappy, Bilbo."

The hobbit looked up from the book he was flipping through. Ori was watching him anxiously, his hands twisting the long sleeves of his cardigan as he waited for Bilbo to respond.

Bilbo looked back at the book again and sighed.

"And what would you have me do?" he asked quietly, not meeting Ori's eyes. "He has made it quite clear he wants nothing to do with me."

Ori knelt in front of him, placing his hands on Bilbo's knees.

"Oh, Bilbo, surely you can't believe...you must know, after all this time, how he feels about you.

"How much he...he loves you."

Bilbo looked down at Ori's fraying, fingerless gloves and suddenly remembered the young dwarf wearing those very same gloves on the Quest, and Fíli teasing him about it. Ori's face had turned scarlet, but he had looked so pleased too, and Bilbo had wondered then if perhaps there was some shared affection between the two.

He now found the thought that there might have been profoundly sad.

Looking up into Ori's face, he saw only concern and a certain determination, and he wondered how it was possible he had never _asked_ Ori about such a thing...and whether thoughts of Fíli, and missed opportunites, were driving the dwarf to speak so candidly now.

"He may have loved me once, but he surely no longer does. Not after...all that has transpired. And even if he did," Bilbo sighed again, dropping his head into his hands, "I find I do not yet know what I feel for _him_."

He felt Ori softly pat him on the shoulder.

"Rest assured he loves you still," Ori said gently.   "Why else would he be so devastated by what he deems a betrayal?  You're his One, and nothing will change that. He has made his choice, and you are written on his heart. It is now up to _you_  now to decide what to do with that."

Bilbo laughed mirthlessly and looked up again at Ori.

"Exactly how much do you know of this?" Bilbo asked.  "I know _I_ have not told you anything and yet you seem well-versed in the issues and entanglements between Bofur and myself...and forgive me for saying this, but I cannot imagine _him_ sharing these things with you."

Ori looked back at Bilbo, his dark eyes warm and devoid of judgement, and the hobbit found himself perilously close to weeping, relieved to be regarded in such a manner.

"I know enough. And there are others who bear much more guilt than you ever could in this situation," Ori explained carefully.  "From where I stand, you have done nothing wrong by choosing not to immediately interfere in something that does not involve you.  I fear you may have borne the brunt of Bofur's ire because of how highly he... _regards_ you."

At that, Bilbo shifted self-consciously and Ori smiled slightly and continued.

"But Bilbo, the secret of Fíli's paternity was shared among a handful, for far longer than _you_ have known, and yet none ever confessed it to him. Dori, Balin and Dwalin were expressly forbidden by King Thror, and even after the king's death, Thorin demanded the silence continue once Fíli was named his heir. Neither Bofur nor Fíli knew the truth, and now, of course, it's too late -"

He stopped suddenly, overwhelmed, and his eyes filled with tears.  Bilbo embraced him, wishing desperately his suspicions about the two young dwarves had not been confirmed in such a crushing way.

_Oh, Thorin,_ he thought, _mine was not the only heart broken that day. And your deception has only caused grief to someone so dear to me...and to your child._

He knew it would be some time before he would be able to make his peace with that.

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What did he feel for Bofur?

The hobbit pondered this question that evening while feeding his daughter her dinner.

He was thoroughly grateful the toymaker was in his life, that much was clear. Bofur was always quick with a kind word and a smile, and Bilbo knew he had come to depend on that support in the wake of Thorin's death. It had taken time, and there had been mistakes along the way, where they had not understood what the other wanted or needed, but the dwarf's friendship and warmth had soothed more pain in Bilbo's heart than he cared to admit.

Yet was that love?

Bofur adored Adana, there was no question about that. He absolutely doted on her - listening when she chatted, indulging her imagination and fueling her courage and enthusiasm with unflagging energy.

More importantly, she loved him back. She had made that clear when Bilbo had pulled away from Bofur after hearing Dís's story. The dwarf's absence in her life was simply not tolerated, and she was, in truth, a happier and more confident child due to spending time with him. That his child was so taken by the toymaker filled Bilbo's heart with such satisfaction, even joy.

Yet was that love?

He knew he was distressed by Bofur's anger towards him, and that he wanted nothing more than to make the toymaker smile at him again, to try to soften and mitigate the deception he knew the dwarf felt and provide solace for the pain he'd inadvertently caused.

And yet...?

Bilbo thought back to the kiss he had given Bofur months ago, and what had prompted it.

There he had been, holding Adana and looking at the toymaker, feeling such glowing warmth bloom in his chest he thought he might burst. He had been proud of his daughter, excited for her accomplishment and had wanted to share all of it, every bit, all of his overwhelming, glorious feelings with -

_Oh._

"Bother it all," he said to his daughter.  She threw sweet potato on the floor in response, laughing at his expression.

He knew the answer.

Now he could only hope Bofur would be willing to listen.


	15. Will you hold me close and call me yours?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo summons his courage and goes to talk to Bofur.

It took another fortnight before he could work up the courage to speak to Bofur.  In that time, Bilbo played out nearly every scenario he could envision in his head.  

****

_Bofur angrily stating it was far too late for declarations of love._

_**** _

_Bofur regretfully confessing that, contrary to Ori's beliefs, he was simply no longer in love with Bilbo._

_**** _

_Bofur looking him square in the eye and telling him he had chosen another, perhaps even Dís, over a fickle hobbit._

****

In not one of these imaginary conversations did he dare to hope that Bofur might be willing to trust Bilbo's affections a second time, that he desired and loved Bilbo as thoroughly and whole-heartedly as Bilbo now knew he loved Bofur.  That way, when he was almost certainly denied it would make it much easier to bear, having kept his expectations so very low.

****

After all, Bilbo was nothing if not eminently practical.

****

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****

He asked Ori to accompany him to Bofur's shop on a day the toymaker had spent with his daughter so that the scribe might take Adana home for him, affording Bofur and him some privacy.

****

It was not until they stood in front of the shop's door that Bilbo began to panic, and lose his nerve.

****

"Ori, wait!" he whispered urgently as the dwarf raised his hand to knock on the door. "I cannot!  I cannot do this...there's no...I...what shall I say?  When he tells me to sod off?"

****

Ori threw him a wry glance, saying, "Bilbo, truly, for a hobbit who has traveled across Middle Earth, fought trolls, giant spiders - faced a _dragon_ , for Mahal's sake! - you are such a coward."

****

Bilbo shrugged deafeatedly.  "Perhaps it is better to silently assume the worst, rather than speak and have my fears confirmed," he said quietly. "That way, there is still some hope."

****

"Bilbo," Ori said simply. "While you both live, there is always hope."

****

Bilbo looked into eyes filled with regret and sadness, and drew himself up.  He was a Baggins of Bag End, after all, and no Baggins ever shied away from a challenge.

****

Smiling slightly, he squeezed Ori's arm for courage and knocked on the door.

****

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****

In short order, Bilbo and Bofur found themselves alone in the toy shop.

****

Silence hung around them like humid air, stifling them both and making it seemingly hard to breathe.  It stretched on and on until Bofur cleared his throat and asked, "Can I offer you some tea?"  His voice was low but clear, and Bilbo felt his heart swell to hear it.

****

_How in the name of the Valar did it take me so long to realize?_ he wondered bemusedly.   _The very sound of his voice drives me to distraction._

****

"Yes, thank you.  Tea would be lovely."

****

The silence returned, but this time it did not feel so oppressive.  Bilbo watched Bofur's economical movements as he pulled out a mug, gathered the tea leaves, and poured the hot water over them.  He was graceful ( _always so graceful,_ Bilbo smiled to himself) yet not fussy or precious in any way.  Every gesture spoke to his strength, and had the same power and focus behind it that Bilbo could recall finding so very attractive all those years ago in Bag End.

****

_Some things never change, I suppose,_ he thought ruefully.

****

When Bofur turned to offer the tea, Bilbo quickly averted his eyes and felt his cheeks grow warm.  He accepted the mug gratefully, mumbling thanks as he sat at the small table in the back of the shop.   _It's quite cozy back here,_ he thought absently.  There was the table, a small bed and a desk, and everything was very simple and immaculate.  

****

Bofur pulled a chair up to sit opposite him and, reaching into his jacket, brought his pipe out.  He made no move to pack it, choosing rather to twist it in his hands as he occasionally glanced up at Bilbo.

****

_Well, here goes nothing,_ Bilbo thought.

****

"Bofur, I wanted to...rather, I _needed_ to...speak candidly with you, and I'm very grateful you agreed to see me. Thank you for that."

****

Bofur nodded slowly, but said nothing.  His gaze rose to meet Bilbo's.

****

Looking down at his hands, Bilbo said, "There is so much I need to say to you, I hardly know where to begin."  He chuckled quietly and risked a glance up at the dwarf.

****

Bofur sat quietly, eyes never leaving Bilbo's face, his pipe spinning in his hands.

****

Bilbo took a deep breath and before he could lose his nerve, blurted out, "I love you.  Oh, Bofur, I do.  I am so in love with you and I dearly hope I have not waited too long to realize, to tell you - "

****

He was interrupted by the sound of the pipe clattering to the floor.

****

Startled, Bilbo looked down at the small wooden pipe, finally motionless on the ground, and then up at Bofur.

****

The dwarf's eyes had grown round and wide, eyebrows reaching impossibly high, and his mouth had fallen open in shock.

****

"Bilbo - "

****

"I know, I know," Bilbo said hurriedly, talking over the dwarf. "You can not _possibly_ still want anything to do with me, after all that has happened between us, but I needed to tell you, wanted you to know how very wonderful I think you are, and how I long to have chosen differently regarding Dís and Fíli, and how I wish finding Thorin had not come at your expense, and how very much I've grown to love you, oh _bother,_ now I'm repeating myself -"

****

This time he was interrupted by the sound of Bofur's chair hitting the floor.

****

And this time, Bilbo was startled enough to jump up out of his chair...

****

...only to be startled even further as Bofur grasped his face in his broad, rough hands and kissed him with so much passion and longing Bilbo's knees grew weak.

 


	16. Embrace our past, believe in our future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur slowly find their way back to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lads have a good deal to discuss...and it starts with this chapter.

 It was some time later, lying naked on the bed with their limbs tangled together, that Bilbo finally spoke.

****

"You are no longer angry with me, then?  About the secrets?  Can you really forgive..." he swallowed thickly, "forgive my choosing another?"

****

Bofur gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind Bilbo's ear, and then leaned up to kiss his temple, his lips warm and dry against the hobbit's skin.  He smelled of cedar and smoke and Bilbo could not help but bury his nose in Bofur's unbound hair and inhale deeply, filling his lungs with the scent he had come to associate with safety and softness, with comfort and warmth.  He lay pressed against Bofur's chest, and felt himself rise and fall with every breath the dwarf took.  

 

"Oh, my sweet, sweet Bilbo." Bofur whispered, caressing Bilbo's curls.   "I am a stubborn fool.  'tis _I_ should be asking forgiveness."

"There's nothing to forgive, Bofur," Bilbo started, but Bofur stopped him with a kiss on the top of his head. 

"I agree," he said firmly.  "For me, anyway, there's nothing to forgive.  Your heart led you true, and then it led you back to me.  I will not regret anything."

****

"But I've caused you so much pain...I never meant to!  But that does not excuse..."

****

His voice trailed off as Bofur moved to face him, propping himself up on his elbow, and began using his free hand to trace aimless patterns on the hobbit's soft belly.

****

"Did you love Thorin?" he asked quietly.

****

Bilbo's eyes filled with tears.  "Yes. Oh yes, I did," he said hoarsely. "He was...he...  Yes. I loved him."

****

"And do you love me now?"

****

Bilbo blinked and the tears began to roll down his cheeks.

****

"Bofur.  My Bofur.  I love you dearly."

****

Taking his hand, Bofur kissed his fingers, softly and slowly, mouthed gentle kisses at his palm, and then placed Bilbo's hand on his cheek, sighing contentedly as Bilbo curled his small fingers in the dwarf's moustache and drew his fingernails across the stubble on his chin.

****

"Then there is nothing to explain or excuse.  You chose the one you loved the best.  Why regret something you neither would nor could change?"  He smiled warmly, and Bilbo smiled back.  "As long as you love me _now,_ and freely choose to be in my arms, I will love you as long as you will let me."

****

With that, Bofur lay Bilbo back and stretched out on top of him, his hands caressing bare flesh, and his mouth teasing and tasting Bilbo's lips, his jaw, his neck.

****

Oh, but Bilbo had missed this sort of closeness, missed it so very much, and he saw now he had been foolish to worry that wanting this, and more, from Bofur took anything away from the love he'd felt for Thorin.

****

_There is pain, but there can be healing too_ , he mused as he ran his hands along Bofur's back, marveling at the hard muscle flexing under his skin and hair, and at the way Bofur responded to his touch, arching and growling into Bilbo's neck as his lips placed hungry kisses on the pale, soft expanse of flesh there.

****

He was alive, and full of love, and there was no shame in needing someone to love him back, someone to laugh with and to hold, to trust and to long for.

****

Someone to love.

****

And Bilbo knew.  Knew with as much certainty as he had only one time before.

****

He loved Bofur, utterly and completely.

 

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They lay in contented silence for a long while afterwards, Bofur's head pillowed on Bilbo's belly, Bilbo curling locks of Bofur's thick, glossy hair around his fingers, letting his hands card through it as it fell between his fingers.

****

_Such a treasure he keeps hidden under that absurd hat,_ Bilbo thought absently.   _Who would have thought?_

****

"I never loved her, you know."

****

Bilbo was abruptly pulled from his reverie and looked down at Bofur.

****

The dwarf had turned his face up, but closed his eyes, and he spoke very deliberately, weighing each word carefully as he spoke.

****

"She was so beautiful - still is - but I never felt much of anything for her...other than gratitude, obviously.  Were it not for her persistence, I would be long dead."

****

Bilbo could not help but shudder at this, and he pulled Bofur more tightly to him.  He was surprised at the depth of fear and protectiveness Bofur's words created in him - protectiveness over an event far in the past.

****

Bofur responded by nuzzling Bilbo's belly gently, and his hand ran soothingly up and down the length of the hobbit's leg, pausing to squeeze his buttock firmly.  Bilbo laughed softly in spite of himself, and leaned over to place a kiss on the top of Bofur's head.

****

Then something jumped to his mind.

****

"Wait - she _still_ is?  You have seen her then, since she returned to Erebor?  She told me you had not spoken since..." he faltered, but pressed on.  "Well, since your last night together, many decades ago."

****

Bofur's hand stopped his teasing squeezes briefly, then continued as the dwarf sighed, "Aye.  I demanded she see me after she sent me the letter about Fíli.  And that is surely why, after all this time, she chose to do that.  She knew good and well I would want to see her after such a revelation.  I am loathe to admit I played directly into her hands...but how could I not ask her about such a thing?  About my - _our_ \- son?"  

****

He shook his head, and Bilbo felt the dwarf's moustache brush against his stomach.  He was briefly distracted, noting the sensation sent tiny tingles up and down his spine, all the way to his toes, and he reached down to pull Bofur closer to him for an embrace.

****

_Bilbo Baggins,_ he chastised himself, _after two bouts of lovemaking?  Honestly, there is time enough for that sort of thing later.  For now, you need to pay attention, for your sake as well as his._

_≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈_

"She...she was unrepentant.  Absolutely unrepentant about keeping such a thing from me for so long...I was so stunned, I could barely draw breath.  I knew...knew _something_ must have happened when it was announced she would marry Víli, but I had long thought her family had discovered the truth of our relationship, and had forced the union upon her.  It happened so quickly that seemed the likely reason.  

"And I am ashamed...so ashamed to say I was relieved."

He was still curled into Bilbo, arms encircling the hobbit's waist, his breath warm on Bilbo's belly.  But now Bilbo could also feel what he suspected were tears, pooling on his skin, and he leaned forward again to gently kiss Bofur's head.

When the dwarf spoke again, his voice was thick and unsteady.  Bilbo held him even more tightly, waiting.

"I was relieved I would no longer have to pretend, or try to pretend."  He sighed, his tone resigned.  "I don't know how good at it I was...but I did try."

At this, Bilbo could keep silent no longer.

"But if you did not love her...if she was not your One," he began tentatively, "why would you - "

Bofur pulled away and looked up at him.  Bilbo saw his suspicions were confirmed - the toymaker had indeed been weeping.

"Why?" Bofur repeated, and Bilbo saw his eyes searching Bilbo's face for something.  Judgement? Disapproval?  Even anger?

Bilbo leaned over and kissed Bofur, first on one eyelid, and then on the other.  He then kissed each cheek and his forehead, and finally a soft, quiet kiss on his lips, issuing not an invitation but rather acceptance. He smiled down at Bofur ( _MY Bofur,_ he thought rather giddily) and said, "I only wish to understand, love."

Bofur's eyes filled with tears again at the hobbit's endearment, and Bilbo steadied his face with his small hands when Bofur moved to hide it again.

"I love you.  Nothing you say will change that."

Bofur's eyes remained closed as he said, so quietly Bilbo almost did not hear, "...this time."

Bilbo felt pierced to his core to hear that, but he gathered himself and said only, "This time, and for all time.  I love you."

Bofur did not speak for a long while, and then -

"She loved me, too.  Or that is what she believed, and who am I to question another's heart?  And after she saved me...and truly Bilbo, that is what happened. I had been given up for dead, we all had, and Bombur and Bifur did not hold enough influence or coin to force the search to continue...but she did.  When they found me, I thought I had never been so glad to be alive, and I would have done anything to show my gratitude."

He groaned and this time he managed to pull his face from Bilbo's hands and turned his body away, twisting in on himself.  Bilbo felt the absence acutely, as cold air rushed in to chill the places on his skin Bofur had been warming.  He reached over and pulled the bed blanket over them both, and nestled in behind him, his hand on the back of the dwarf's neck, massaging it gently.

"Well I know how that sounds, like I was no better than a whore, giving the one thing I had to my name to repay a debt...and perhaps that is the truth of it, but Bilbo -" and he turned around abruptly, facing Bilbo, and brought his hand up to Bilbo's cheek.  "I swear to you, I was not unwilling.  I...I dearly hoped in time...that I would grow to love her as she loved me."  He sighed.  "She was so certain, and it seemed the simplest way."

Bilbo leaned forward until their lips met, and brushed his against Bofur's soothingly.  He snuggled in closer, drawing the covers even more tightly around them and placing his head on Bofur's broad chest as Bofur set his chin on Bilbo's curls.

"She was so beautiful...and so certain...and I _knew_ I had a One somewhere...you ask why and I can only say I continued to hope my heart would reveal my her to be my One, someday.  It is so rare for us to find our One and have them not return the affection, so I waited, and hoped...and then one day, it was over.  The engagement was announced and within a fortnight she was wed to Lord Víli...and I was filled with such joy!  Such a profound relief...I knew then I would never recognize her as my One, and I was so grateful, so selfishly grateful, that I would not have to be the one to tell her that."

They were both quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and then Bilbo asked, "Do you think she ever wondered why you never sought her out after that last night?  Why you never tried to plead your case to her family and win her hand?"

Bofur looked at him sadly, and said, "I rather think she may have known my heart better than I did.  Perhaps I was not as good at pretending as I had thought I was."

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"When Fíli was born, did you ever wonder...?  Even for a moment?"

Bofur shook his head.  "Not once.  You spoke to me once of your mother's siblings - eleven of them, yes?"

Bilbo smiled and nodded.  "Yes, she was the eldest of twelve."

Bofur shook his head in astonishment.  "That is almost unheard of for our kind."  Anticipating Bilbo's response, he held up a preemptive hand.  "Bombur and my sister-in-law are an anomoly, I can promise you that.  Dwarven pregnancies are tricky, uncommon and dangerous.  They are almost never unplanned.  It never once occurred to me she would be able to quicken without my knowledge, without having to time things very specifically, and without -" He blushed, but continued, "Well, suffice to say there are usually several things that must be in place to make such a thing possible."

Bilbo made a mental note to ask Ori about such things later.

"For those reasons, when Fíli was born, I simply accepted that she and Víli had been lucky enough to be blessed quickly with a strong son.  That Kíli was born so soon after his brother seemed to confirm this.

"I hoped she was not unhappy...but I cannot deny I was very glad to be shut of her, as unkind as that may sound.  I recognized well after the fact I had done her no favors in agreeing to come to her bed and...well, it is exhausting to be continually confronted by someone who loves you so desperately when you do not return that affection."

Bilbo looked up sharply from where he'd been toying with the buckle on Bofur's discarded coat.  Their eyes met, and something passed between them.

_And now it is my turn,_ thought Bilbo.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to Salvia_G for using the phrase "Bofur did her (Dís) no favors by going to her bed" in a comment on a previous chapter because I loved that sentiment and I totally stole it for THIS chapter!! She is the best and if you have not read her stuff please do yourself a favor and check it out post-haste!


	17. Let me be safety from your heartbreak...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur and Bilbo continue to mend what needs mending between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the false alarm earlier! There is an actual new chapter here this time!

"Thorin told me it was like being hit by lightning."

 

They sat on the small bed, wearing only their trousers, and sharing Bofur's pipe, rescued from the floor.

 

Bofur nodded. "Aye, we are told it can happen that way for some."

 

Bilbo raised his eybrow. "But not for you?"

 

Bofur gave a small laugh. "Are you fishing for a compliment? I warn you, my heart still feels a bit raw to lavish you with too many of those just yet."

 

Bilbo felt his face flush, but he laughed as well. "Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I simply want to understand. We hobbits do not approach these things in the same manner."

 

Bofur snorted. "Well do I know that."

 

Bilbo flushed even more deeply, and felt his laughter dry up in his throat.

 

Bofur reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry. That was not called for, especially when you have been so kind with me tonight. I meant it only in jest, but the edges are sharper than I thought, I suppose."

 

Bilbo gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand. "It's all right. It's a night to clear the air, yes? How else are we to move forward?"

 

Bofur hummed his agreement, and puffed on his pipe in silence for a bit. Finally, he said, "No, it was not like lightning for me. Though I can remember the first time I saw you as if it had just happened, you standing there in your robe, and me crawling out from under Bombur."

 

They both laughed a little.

 

"I remember that as well," Bilbo said, smiling more broadly.  "I found you so beautiful.  Well, except for that horrifying hat."

 

Bofur put his hand dramatically to his chest. "How can I sit back and listen to the honor of my beloved hat be impugned this way? I shall be forced to issue a challenge, you upstart hobbit!"

 

Bilbo laughed loudly at that, and Bofur's eyes grew soft at the sound.

 

"It's been a long time since I've made you laugh that way." he said warmly. "I've missed hearing it."

 

Bilbo felt his face grow red again ( _had he NO control over that? It was most embarrassing!_ ) and before he could stop himself, he said boldly, "I've not made _you_ laugh like that in even longer, I'll wager."

 

Bofur leaned in, grasping Bilbo by the shoulder and tapping the pipe stem against his nose.

 

"Well, don't give up. I can feel it, right under the surface, just waiting to come out," he whispered conspiratorially.

 

Bilbo swatted the pipe away, laughing again, and reveling in how relaxed and safe he felt.

 

"If we may set aside the honor of your hat for a moment, I believe we were discussing the first time we met."

 

Bofur sat back again, resting against the wall and smiling at Bilbo. He took another drag on his pipe and then offered it up to Bilbo, who accepted it gladly. He welcomed the burn in his lungs as he inhaled, and the sweet buzz in his head that followed soon after.

 

"As I remember it, a certain hobbit could not take their eyes off me," Bofur said blithely. "Very forward, that. And here I'd always heard how shy your folk could be with strangers! That was not my experience, to be sure."  He plucked the pipe from Bilbo's fingers and puffed on it again. "I had no sooner walked into your home than you were plying me with food and drink, and gazing at me lustfully every time I looked up," he continued cheekily.  "My poor, innocent self had no idea what to make of it all. I was totally out of my depth and at your mercy, Master Baggins, just the way you wanted me."

 

Bilbo poked him sourly in his arm but could not completely stifle his laughter and soon they were both laughing quite hard, the release of tension palpable. After several moments their laughter quieted...only to swell again when Bilbo snorted loudly in an effort to hold his mirth in.

 

Wiping tears away and reaching again for the pipe, Bilbo said, "Yes, yes, I remember. I remember it all! I told you I found you beautiful. Is it any great surprise I chose to make my desires known to you? I am a grown hobbit, after all. I see nothing wrong with my behavior."

 

Bofur sobered quickly at this, and even through the haze of the pipe weed, Bilbo could feel the change.

 

"No, nothing wrong at all. It's just...well, I...ah, blast it all! Why can't I just come out with it?"  Bofur shook his head hard, as if to clear it, and cleared his throat.

 

Bilbo had stilled, waiting.

 

"It's just that...well, it was not like lightning for me. It was more...it was...ahhh! Damn it all!"

 

Bofur sat even straighter, and turned to face Bilbo directly.

 

"You were brighter than anything else. That's the long and short of it. When I saw you, it was as if everything else had been dulled in comparison, and you shone like the sun. You... _glowed_ , really. Your skin, your hair. Your eyes. Even that robe! Everything so crisp and colorful and...alive. And then when I touched you...do you remember?"

 

Bilbo did. It had been a hand on his arm. Bilbo had looked up into Bofur's eyes, then down at the dwarf's large hand on his slender arm, and had taken him by the hand and led him down to his bedroom.

 

Bofur had closed his eyes, remembering. "When I touched you, it was as if you...vibrated. The way the stone does before a collapse or a rock slide. But with you it felt - " he stopped, and this time it was he who blushed. "It felt...divine. As if you were more _there_ than anyone I'd ever known or touched before.  And I knew."

 

"You knew?"

 

Bofur smiled. "Aye, I knew. You were my One. I had never thought to find you in the Shire, had never thought my One would not be a dwarf...but there you were. And I had never been so happy.

 

"And then..."

 

Shifting his position, Bilbo looked down, suddenly awkward and filled with guilt.

 

And then he had left Bofur for Thorin.

 

He struggled to find the words to explain.

 

"Bofur, I must ask - may I speak candidly to you about this? I do not wish to hurt you further, but I want to be nothing but honest and straight-forward with you about my decision. I will choose my words carefully, but I may be unable to avoid saying something you could perceive as painful..."

 

He looked up at the dwarf, trying to read the expression he saw there. Bofur's head was down, resting on his knees, which were encircled by his arms, and his shoulders were hunched. The pipe hung loosely from one hand, forgotten.

 

Bilbo hesitated, but gradually he moved forward, lifting Bofur's head and pressing his forehead to the toymaker's gently.

 

"We need not discuss this now, if you do not wish it," he murmured quietly, holding Bofur's head gently, petting his glossy hair and placing soft kisses upon it. "There is no rush...in fact, I would like to hope we have plenty of time."

 

Bofur grasped Bilbo's wrist in one hand, and lifted his head to kiss the inside of it delicately before releasing it.

 

"No, love," he said hoarsely. "I would hear what you have to say."

 

Bilbo sat back, took a deep breath, and said, "I loved Thorin, with every fiber of my being. Something in him called to me, in a way I had never felt before. It was as if I could not really breathe unless he was by my side. He was - " and against his will, despite trying desperately to control it, Bilbo began to weep, tears slowing falling down his cheeks as his voice grew heavy. "He was my everything.  Oh, Bofur, I never wanted to hurt you, I still don't, but you must know _why_ I did what I did. He was my dawn, and my twilight.  He was my warmth in the night, and my oasis in the sun.  He gave me purpose, and I felt stronger when I was with him. He -" and now he was crying heavily, and his breath hitched as he tried to stem his tears. "He was the father of my child, and when he died I wanted to die with him. I felt as if my mind would...would _break,_ that losing him would shatter me into a thousand pieces and I would never be right again."

 

Throughout all this Bofur sat still and silent, his head leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed and his own face wet with tears.

 

"And then Adana was born, and I had something to live for," Bilbo continued, dabbing his face with his arm. "A child, totally dependent on me, who needed me to care for her, to love her. She was my greatest responsibility, and my greatest joy.  Because of her, I was able to climb out of my grief.  She offered me no other choice, the selfish little thing."

 

Bofur huffed out a surprised laugh, and looked up at Bilbo smiling down at him. The hobbit reached his hand out, and slowly, so slowly, he wiped the tears from Bofur's face. Cupping the dwarf's cheek, he said, "You were right. It _was_ just under the surface, waiting to come out.  Hello, dear Bofur's laugh.  I've missed you."

 

This time the laugh was larger, fuller, and Bilbo felt his heart squeeze.

 

"So now you know everything. I left you because I _had_ to, not because I wanted to. Hobbits do not have a One, but if we did, then Thorin was mine, and I had to be with him."

 

Bofur reached up to hold the hand Bilbo still held on his face, and said, "So where does that leave me?  If he was your One, what am I to you?"  His face was open and vulnerable, and he looked so fragile Bilbo's heart broke a little to see him.

 

"You are my dear friend, and my comfort, and my happiness. You are the one I love, and the one I hope loves me."

 

"But - "

 

"No," Bilbo said firmly. "Hobbits are not made the same way dwarves are. We thrive on sunshine, on green growing things...and on love. And while we love only one, we may love more than once. Do you see?"  His voice grew stronger, more passionate.  "We are not made of the stone, but of the earth. Having someone to love is as essential to us as air. If we are fortunate enough to find it again, we do not turn away from it, but rather accept it for the gift it is.

 

"Please. If you love me as you say you do, please do not turn from me now."

 

Bofur looked up, and the sight of his face, with his red-rimmed eyes, so naked and so trusting, took Bilbo's breath away.

 

The hobbit smiled softly and said, "I love you, Bofur, and I can promise you, now that I do, I will never waver."

 

Bofur frowned and said, " _Now_ that you do? You did not...before?"

 

Sighing, Bilbo shook his head...and took the final step.

 

"I held great affection for you, and great desire...but love?  No, dearest.  Not then.  I would never have left had I felt that.  As I said, hobbits love only one."

 

He waited, knowing that while Bofur may have intuited this, he had never heard it stated so baldly.

 

Bilbo felt as if he had jumped off a precipice, and that now he was reaching back blindly, hoping there would be a hand offered at the very last moment, before he plunged to the ground.

 

He had made his feelings known, and had been as honest as he could be with Bofur. Now it would be up to the dwarf to make the final decision.

 

So he waited...waited for Bofur to decide what to do with his heart.

 

And then, in the silence that seemed so loud, Bofur spoke.

 

"Oh, Bilbo...my dearest, dearest Bilbo," he said quietly, almost reverently.  "As if I could ever turn from you. I am now, and have ever been, yours and only yours."  He smiled softly, and reached out to caress Bilbo's cheek.  "Even before I knew who you were, I carried you in my heart. There will never be another."

 

Bilbo gasped, and it felt as if the whole world exploded into vibrant color and heat. He lunged forward, and when their lips met, Bilbo felt he might never want to leave this moment. They kissed fiercely, and Bofur moaned as Bilbo held the back of his head firmly and pulled on the dwarf's lower lip with his teeth.

_Now. Here. This_. thought Bilbo. _It is all I could have asked for. How is it possible I am this lucky, to have a love like this twice in my life?_   He wanted to memorize every moment, feeling greedy and gluttonous for every touch, every sweet sound Bofur made. He wanted to remember everything about how Bofur felt, how he smelled, how he looked as he came undone under Bilbo's hands.

_Mine, mine, mine,_ ran through his head, along with _he loves me, he loves me, he loves me_...

_And I love him too,_ he thought.

 

And this time, he was ready for all that meant.

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"And what of Dís?"

They had been almost asleep, exhausted and wrung out after so much soul-baring and physical tenderness...but now Bilbo's question hung in the air between them, heavy with uncertainty.

Bofur shifted beneath him, and Bilbo felt the dwarf's arm squeeze his waist gently.

 

"What of her?"  he responded softly.

"Bofur.  Well you know what I mean.  What happened when you went to confront her about her note?"  As much as Bilbo wanted to see his lover's face, he chose to snuggle closer into his side, wrapping his arms around Bofur's broad chest and burying his face in the warmth he found there.

Perhaps this way it would be easier for Bofur to tell him what had transpired between him and the Durin princess.

Nothing was said for so long Bilbo began to worry Bofur was never going to answer him, or maybe even that he had fallen asleep ( _understandable,_ he thought.   _Honestly -_ three _times will wear anyone out_ ) when Bofur broke the silence.

"I told you she was unrepentant.  Yes?"

Bilbo nodded, keeping his face pressed to Bofur's deliciously hirsuit chest.

"Well, it was even worse than that.  She seemed..." and his voice broke, just a little, " _pleased_ that I now knew. Now that it was too late, and I would never be able to talk to the lad again...my anger and sorrow seemed to almost... _feed_ her, in an unnatural way.

"And she knew about you."

Bilbo nodded again.  "She...well, she threatened me, not to put too fine a point on it.  Told me if I hurt you again she would make me pay."  He chose at the last moment to leave out the threat against Adana.  Things already felt tightened nearly to the breaking point, and he wanted no part in throwing fuel on that fire.

Bofur stilled almost immediately.

"Her threats...did they play any part in...tonight?"

Realization rushed through Bilbo like cold water, chilling him thoroughly.  He scrambled to sit up, and took Bofur by the shoulders roughly.

"Bofur!  Oh, love - how could you even _think_ such a thing?  I   _love_ you, that's the only reason I'm here.  I would never... _could_ never...please!  Tell me you do not really believe that!"

Huffing softly, Bofur met Bilbo's eyes and gave him a wry smile.  

"No matter what we think we know, we may still need to be told, lover," he said quietly.  "She made no mention of such things to me, so you'll forgive me if hearing she'd spoken that way to you made me fear the worst."

Bilbo moved forward, leaning his forehead against Bofur's.

"I am not here because of any threat of hers, I can promise you that," Bilbo said firmly.  "I am here because I did not want to spend one more moment without you, and I needed to know if you felt the same.  Urgently."

That made Bofur smile.  "Urgently, eh?" he said almost teasingly.  "How urgently?"

Laughing, Bilbo shook him by the shoulders.  "Three times worth, apparently.  I would call that fairly urgent."

"As would I," Bofur responded, grinning for the first time that evening ( _and wasn't_ that _a delicious sight,_ Bilbo sighed to himself).  "So urgent I'm surprised an old thing like me could keep up with you."

Bilbo straightened his shoulders defiantly.  "We are of an age, I'll have you know.  I am middle-aged by hobbit reckoning."

Looking around the small room, Bofur said, "And yet I see only one creature here who is pushing one hundred seventy years, Master Hobbit.  So again, you'll forgive me if I put claim to being your elder now and then."

Pressing the dwarf back and leaning on top of him to kiss his nose, Bilbo said, "I think you'll find there is naught I would not forgive, Master Dwarf."

Growling, Bofur surged up to capture Bilbo's mouth in an ardent kiss, one that Bilbo felt himself getting lost in, until he put both hands against Bofur's chest (and almost lost his resolve again at the feel of the muscles and the thick pelt of hair there) and pushed solidly.

"You are incorrigible!"  he scolded.

"Merely starved, little love," Bofur said languidly, running his hands up and down Bilbo's back, massaging and stroking until, once again, Bilbo could feel himself slipping.  "I still cannot believe you are here with me again, and I wish to take my fill of you. Surely you can't blame me?"

His words made Bilbo's eyes fill with tears, and he said, "Blame you I do not, and I find I am not quite sated either...but I would hear the rest of what was said between you and her, so that we might never need speak of it again."

Bofur's hands slowed, reluctantly, and he said, "Aye.  Right you are. Let's finish it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the phrase "Now. Here. This." from some friends of mine, who wrote a musical with this same title. I absolutely love the way that tweaking that common phrase expresses the idea of being in the moment and appreciating everything that's happening right then and there, which strikes me as a very hobbit-y way of living...
> 
> (And if you have any interest, there's a recording of the show's music out there...)


	18. ...if you will be deliverance from my fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur finish their reconciliation.

Wisely deciding there was much less distracting temptation out of the bed, they both finished dressing and sat again at the small table, Bilbo with a cup of tea and Bofur with his pipe.

****

"I was stunned she knew about you, you know," Bofur said as he lit his pipe.  "I couldn't begin to imagine how she'd found out, or what bearing it had on why I was there and what was between us."

****

Bilbo had wondered that himself.  There was a finite number of people who had known about his relationship to the toymaker, after all, and three of them were dead.  It was not impossible some bits of gossip had slipped out - after all, it was hardly a secret - but her knowledge had seemed more pointed than mere rumors.

****

"It...distracted me for a moment, to hear her mention you," the dwarf continued, more slowly.  "But truthfully, I was not there to speak of you.  I was there to ask _why_ in the name of the Seven Fathers she had kept Fíli from me all this time, only to reveal the truth now."

****

With an anguished moan, he set his pipe down and dropped his face into his hands, his shoulders trembling with the force of his almost silent sobbing.  Bilbo, alarmed, moved to comfort him but Bofur held up a hand to stop him.  

****

_Perhaps there was a reason he sought to lose himself in my touch tonight,_ Bilbo realized belatedly.   _What could she have said to him?_

****

Bofur continued to weep, quietly and steadily, and Bilbo sat back, helpless to do anything but watch.  He sipped his tea distractedly and waited.  Finally the dwarf gathered himself and spoke, so quietly Bilbo had to lean forward and even then he almost did not hear.

****

"She gave me the gift of my son, knowing full well death had made it impossible for me to ever enjoy that gift," he said through his tears.  "She told me..." and his voice broke, rasping from his sorrow, "...told me she wanted me to hurt as deeply as she did.  That seeing my pain was the...the first happiness she'd felt since she'd heard of the deaths of Fíli and Kíli."

****

Bilbo gasped.  The thought of such purposeful cruelty was completely outside his ken.   _Is this what happens,_ he wondered, _when the love for a One is deferred?  Does it cave in on itself like this, and produce this kind of rage and desire to cause pain?_  That something so foul could come from something so beautiful as love seemed unfathomable to the hobbit, and he shuddered to think of what Bofur's fate could have been had circumstances been different.

****

_What did I almost condemn him too?_   he thought despairingly.   _Would this have been what happened to him too, eventually, had I not fallen in love with him?_

****

With more than a little exasperation, he decided if he never again heard any more talk about Ones it would be too soon.  

****

It was obviously a very flawed system.

 

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Bofur continued, head down, his voice low and heavy with grief.

"I was distraught.  To think he had been with me that whole time and I had never known...nor had he. And the battle...that thrice-cursed battle!  I would have _died_ before I let my son fall, but I didn't _know._  They never _told_ me!  Thorin, Balin, Dwalin - who _knows_ how many knew?  And then...to find out _you_ knew as well, albeit much later, and yet you too chose to remain silent...well, as unfair as it may seem, it was..."  He sighed, shaking his head and looking up at Bilbo remorsefully.  "It was simply too much to bear."

Bilbo sat motionless, trying to comprehend the level of betrayal he knew Bofur must be feeling.  To discover your child had been beside you for months, through unimaginable dangers, only to perish at your side in a battle and you knew not to protect them?  To fight for them with your very last breath?  Never mind that Fili was a warrior and Bofur a miner and toymaker - to be denied the opportunity to at least _try_...well, shame on all who had robbed Bofur of that chance. He had deserved at least that much.

And then Bilbo's chest constricted as he realized that, had Bofur known, he would very likely have perished along with the Durins in the battle.  

_Is it so wrong of me to be_ glad _he never knew?_ he wondered.   _I know how selfish it is, but had he died, I would never have know this love_...or, Bilbo mused further, would he simply have never missed it?  Would Bofur have been merely a footnote in his heart, someone for whom he'd cared, once, but whose death would always be overshadowed by Thorin's?

Groaning, Bilbo dropped his head into his hands and held it there, rubbing his eyes.  So terribly much to think about...and all because Thorin and those loyal to him had chosen to keep silent on something so profoundly important; and it stung more than the hobbit cared to examine that his lover had not confided in him.

_Perhaps,_ Bilbo thought sadly, _I did not know Thorin as well as I thought I had._

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"Can you understand why I did not tell you of Fíli as soon as I knew?"  Bilbo asked quietly.  "Things between us were so... _unsure,_ and tenuous, I was not certain how to broach such a matter, or even if it was my place to do so, and I swear I would have found a way to share it with you, somehow, I just - "

 

Bofur reached out and placed his hand over Bilbo's gently.

 

"I meant what I said.  There is nothing to forgive, aye?" he said softly.

"Aye," came the equally soft response.

 

"The wheels were in motion long before you were even born, my sweet," and at this Bofur snorted and Bilbo rolled his eyes in response.  "As bizarre as that may be to imagine, you... _stripling,_ you."

 

Bilbo leaned over and playfully nipped the hand covering his.

 

"Middle-aged, remember?   _Middle-aged,_ " he chided with mock seriousness.

 

Bofur huffed out a small laugh, and Bilbo smiled.

 

"Besides," Bofur continued heavily, "I may be absurdly naive but I do not believe you would have kept silent had you known before the battle.  Not when - " his voice caught " -not when we all knew what could happen.  What _did_ happen."

 

Bilbo pulled his chair closer, his tea forgotten, and reached out to pull Bofur close.  They sat in silence for a while and then Bofur sat back, saying in a low voice,

 

"She...she sought to wound me as grievously as she had been wounded, as if the notion I may have found happiness without her was too much to bear, and I believe she sought to drive a wedge between you and me.  To use the betrayal she knew I would feel against _you,_ so that my fury would drive you away and that this time, you would leave for good."

Bofur then sighed, and reached to intertwine his fingers in Bilbo's. He looked utterly spent and exhausted, the hobbit noted worriedly, as if he'd been drained of something vital.

Bilbo squeezed the dwarf's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each knuckle tenderly and then holding it to his cheek.

"Well, then, we should be grateful she was at least not able to divide us, although my heart breaks for your loss.  Bofur...I am so terribly sorry.  About Fíli, about everything.  That you have been hurt so horribly by all this is something I shall strive to address, I can promise you that."

Bofur smiled widely, and leaned forward to press their foreheads together.

"I shall look forward to your ministrations, my dear hobbit," he murmured, and Bilbo chuckled.  

 

Leaning back again, Bofur looked at Bilbo almost shyly and said, "I need to thank you, Master Baggins.  I do not know what I would have done had you not come to me tonight.  I fear my anger and...and my grief made me terribly stubborn.  So...thank you."

Bilbo smiled warmly, and cupped Bofur's cheek with his hand.  "I love you, you stubborn old dwarf."

Grasping the hobbit's hand firmly and smiling back, Bofur replied quietly, "I love you too, you courageous, middle-aged hobbit."

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As loathe as he was to leave, not after they'd finally made things right between them, and there were no more secrets or things left unsaid, Bilbo knew he needed to get home to his daughter.  Poor Ori had likely not realized he was agreeing to spending the night when he had offered to take Adana home many, many hours ago.

But it was so _terribly_ difficult to depart, and it was not until dawn was breaking and Bofur had promised him they would see each other again in only a few hours, that Bilbo finally took his leave.

They stood by the shop's door, holding tightly to each other, and Bilbo said softly into Bofur's ear, "He would have been so proud to claim you as his father, you know."

Bofur stilled, and then clung even more tightly to Bilbo.

"Truly?" he asked hoarsely.  "Do you _truly_ believe that?"

Bilbo lifted his head from Bofur's shoulder and stood on his tiptoes so that he might kiss Bofur on the lips, softly and sweetly.

"Oh, my dear love," he said gently, "all that know you cannot help but fall in love with you...even if some of us go the long way 'round about it."


	19. My heart runneth over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having come to a new understanding, Bilbo and Bofur begin their life together.

Bilbo made his way back home as swiftly as he could.  The streets were mostly empty at such an early hour but, as a person of note in the kingdom, he had no desire to create any more gossip about himself and Bofur than it seemed already existed.

****

_Now_ there _is something to chew on,_ he mused thoughtful as he dodged a delivery cart and two guards of the Night's Watch.  How had Dís in fact come by her information?  

 

So lost in thought was Bilbo that he nearly bypassed his own home.  He entered as quietly as possible, and was greeted by the endearing sight of Ori and Adana, sound asleep on the small sofa; the tiny dwobbit lying prone on Ori's chest, and the scribe snoring softly, his breath rustling her hair gently with every exhale.

****

Bilbo stood for a moment, uncertain whether or not to wake Ori and send him to his own bed when it was nearly morning.  He couldn't help but smile when he noticed the storybook lying on the floor, having clearly slipped from Ori's hand once sleep took him; and he had no doubt Adana had insisted on story after story and that Ori had been more than happy to oblige.

****

He finally decided to simply cover them both with an afghan Ori himself had knitted, and went into his room to change his clothes.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror and was surprised and pleased to notice how relaxed he looked...and how happy.  He was aware, too, how much lighter he felt, as if great weights had been lifted off his chest and his feet were no longer touching the ground.

****

Truth to tell, it was an extremely pleasant sensation.

****

When he went back out into the front room to make himself some tea, he noticed Ori had awoken, and was attempting to work his way out from underneath Adana without disrupting her sleep.  He was ultimately successful, and he placed the small blanket back on her slumbering form with care.

****

He then looked up at Bilbo, who gestured to him to come into the kitchen.  Ori did, looking extremely smug, and though Bilbo rolled his eyes, he accepted Ori's gentle arm punch and embrace gladly.

****

"I see things must have gone well, judging by the hour you chose to grace us with your company," Ori said cheekily.

****

Bilbo felt his face redden, but he was in simply too good a mood to be embarrassed.  Laughing quietly, he asked, smiling, "Am I as transparent as all that?"

****

"As transparent as glass, my dear Master Baggins," Ori responded breezily.  "And I could honestly not be more pleased for you.  For you both, really."  The dwarf grinned widely, and Bilbo was helpless to do anything but grin back.  "This has been a good long time in coming, I know, and you both deserve every bit of happiness I know you will find with each other.

****

"Only - " and here Ori trailed off.

****

"Only what?" Bilbo frowned.  "Why do you hesitate?"

****

"Only I ask, with the utmost respect of course," the young scribe began, his face quite serious, "that you invest in larger furniture, if nights like this are to become a common occurrence."  Then, unable to hold back any longer, he began laughing quietly, and continued, "My back will not survive many more nights on that narrow sofa, and your daughter is not inclined to sleep in her own bed or make much room for me."

****

He only laughed harder as Bilbo threw a handy doily at his head.

****

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****

Ori needn't have worried.

****

Two days later, Bilbo invited Bofur to stay after dinner...and the toymaker never left again.

****

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****

Adana took to the new arrangements with alacrity, and soon it felt as if things had always been that way.  

****

"She's a little savior, that one," Bofur remarked one day while they sat with her outside, on the western slope of the mountain, the remains of a picnic lunch spread before them.

****

The hobbit and the dwarf sat sharing a pipe while Adana ran about, chasing butterflies and gathering dandelions to present at various intervals to one of them.

****

Bilbo turned to regard Bofur, squinting into the mid-afternoon sun.

****

"Why a savior?" he asked, surprised.

****

Bofur shrugged, and said nothing for a moment.  Bilbo was almost ready to prod him further when he said, "Well, one could say she saved you from your grief, yes?  After Thorin...well, after him."

****

Bilbo felt a lump rise in throat, and tears well in his eyes.

****

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

****

Bofur reached out for him and squeezed his hand, keeping his gaze to the horizon.

****

"And her sweet little self helped me as well...stopped me from solely focusing on...on Fíli and my anger at...you know."

****

They never said Dís's name aloud.  It was nothing they had ever discussed, but rather something they had tacitly agreed upon.

****

Bilbo lifted the hand that was entwined in Bofur's and gently kissed his lover's wrist, taking no small amount of pleasure in the way Bofur shivered in response.

****

"That's a lovely way to look at it, I think," he said.

****

"And I would say she saved you and me, too," Bofur ventured, turning back to catch Bilbo's eye.

****

"Yes?" Bilbo replied softly.

****

"Were it not for her, you would not have kissed me that day in my shop, I'll wager."

****

They sat quietly, watching their dwobbit laugh as she threw fistfuls of yellow blossoms into the air to rain down over her head.

****

"You may be right," Bilbo said finally.  "She definitely presented me with the opportunity.  Did everything short of tell me directly, I suppose."

****

Bofur laughed.

****

"It's as I said.  She's a little savior."

****

They sat in the fading light, enjoying the late summer warmth, for a long while.

****

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****

They married shortly after Durin's Day, later that year, on the anniversary of the first kiss of their second chapter together.

****

Bofur had remembered the exact date.

****

Bilbo gifted his new husband with a garland of daisies (for loyal love and patience), and a glorious waistcoat constructed in the hobbit fashion, complete with brass buttons and embroidered flowers on the lapels.

****

Bofur presented his hobbit with intricately carved wooden beads for his marriage braids, and a mithril ring, which Bilbo secretly thought was far too fine for the likes of him, but wore anyway because it was so beautiful, and because Bofur had made it with his own hands.

****

Being no fool, Bofur also made a wedding gift for Adana - a magnificent wooden toy palace, completely furnished and inhabited by a king, queen, two princes and princesses and a plethora of others figures that were quickly relegated to the dungeon, so that they might be rescued by the tiny carved hobbit figure Bofur had thought to include as well.

****

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****

Two months later, as winter ground on and the days were short and bleak, Bilbo discovered he had a surprise for Bofur.

****

Five months after that, their son arrived.  They named him Sefur.

****

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****

Time passed, as it will.  That it passed happily, full of love and good health for all of them, was something for which Bilbo was very grateful.  He thought he had never been so content.

 

And then on the fifth anniversary of that fateful Durin's Day, Balin called on Bilbo at home.

****

He presented the hobbit with a letter and no explanation, saying the letter itself would address any concerns he had.

****

The letter was from Thorin.

 


	20. A fume of sighs and lovers' tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is a paraphrase of a line from Romeo and Juliet:
> 
> "Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,  
> Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes,  
> Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers’ tears.  
> What is it else? A madness most discreet,  
> A choking gall and a preserving sweet."

_My dearest Bilbo,_

 

_If you are reading this, it means I am long dead._

 

_I am so sorry, my heart._

 

_I need you to know how happy you made me, in our all too brief time together in this world, and how ardently I longed for a life with you and our child._

 

_Would that circumstance were different, ghivashel!  I have never yearned to be anything other than what I am but...hearing that you carry our little one makes me desire a life I have always unfairly discounted - a life of simplicity and creature comforts, with nothing more grand than a warm fire and a kettle on the stove, and you and our babe in my arms._

 

_I pray you will forgive me for not choosing that life. In the end, my pride and honor compel me to see my quest through to the end, although had things been entirely successful I would have been so proud to have you by my side as Consort, and I want to believe as I write this that you would have accepted my suit, and taken Erebor into your heart the same way you took in me.  We are not so very different, as it turns out, Erebor and I. We both had laid in ruins for so dreadfully long, needing to be rescued by an intrepid and remarkable hobbit.  I shall be forever grateful you loved me as I loved you._

 

_I find myself hoping you have decided to stay at the Mountain, and are raising our child here. Half-hobbit they may be, but they are also half-dwarf, and as such surely the mountain calls to their blood. Children are a treasure for any race, but doubly so for dwarves - they are as rare as mithril, and tenfold more precious than the Arkenstone. Surely the company must have pressed you to stay so that they might watch our child grow. How I wish I could see Fíli and Kíli with them! They are little more than children themselves and so must be uniquely suited to their new caregiving roles._

 

_Beloved, I asked Balin to give you this letter on the fifth anniversary of Durin's Day in New Erebor (is that what you are calling it? I cannot help but wonder, however trivial that may seem)._ _His instructions to wait such an extended period were prompted by my fervent hope that you are, by this time, long finished with grieving me. I did not want my letter to prove a distraction from living your life, and the image of you closed up inside, weeping over these words and mourning me even more desperately, led to that decision.  I want rather to think of my hobbit and my child laughing in the sunshine, with flowers in your hair, barefoot in the grass. (Do you remember how I teased you when first you told me your splendid news?  So now I wonder - does our son or daughter prefer to be barefoot like their papa?  Or do they sensibly prefer shoes, like their adad?)_

 

_I also find, strangely, that I wish to think of my hobbit finding love with another some day. It is not the dwarven way, to be sure - we love only once, and we love with all that we are. But you, my dearest, are made of kinder stuff, and I cannot be so small as to wish you and our child go through this life alone because of my selfish and entirely dwarven jealousies._

 

_I must confess there is a certain dwarf I pray you have found your way back to, for he loves you so. It is a great shame of my life that I knew his heart full well, and yet could not bring myself to renounce you. If, as we believe, we are indeed granted a single being to call our One, I found I could not let the chance you might love me in return slip through my fingers. In this one thing I chose to be selfish, may Mahal forgive me._

 

_May Bofur forgive me._

 

_My heart, there are things I never told you, and should you and Bofur have started a life together you very likely know of them by now._

 

_I can only beg forgiveness, and tell you I did what I thought was right at the time. I love my sister dearly, and did not wish to see her exiled or sent to the ends of the world because she committed the great sin of loving one who could not return her affection. Keeping Fíli's paternity secret was the price Thór demanded in exchange for her union with Víli, and I paid it gladly._

 

_Decades later, having toiled and fought beside Bofur, and knowing him to be such an honorable, loyal and brave dwarf, I regret my decision, but the eve of battle is no place to address such a transgression.  I shall instead take the coward's way out, and trust that he and Fíli have discovered the truth from my sister, and have forged some manner of understanding and affection in light of their true relationship._

 

_I tell you now I wrote a letter to Dís as well, telling her of you (although my words can never do you justice, âzyungâl) and of our child. You very likely know of this already, as I asked Balin to give it to her upon her arrival to Erebor. I feel it important she know the truth of us...and the truth of you and Bofur._

 

_My beloved hobbit, I ask your forgiveness one last time as I tell you I revealed to Dís not only my love for you, but also Bofur's love for you.  For his sake as well as hers, I wanted her to know that he had found his One, so that she might take this opportunity for a new life in our reclaimed homeland - to start anew, and let go of long-held, hopeless dreams.  Well I know how strong-willed she is, but I know she will not stand in the way of Bofur's happiness._

 

_May you all find peace together._

 

_As I sit writing this you sleep beside me, our wee treasure growing inside you. I am filled with joy beyond measure, and a profound hope that I write this letter to you only to burn it after the upcoming battle, for that would mean I survived._

 

_But should the worst come to the worst, I want,_ need _, you to know how deeply I love you, and how thankful I am you agreed to come with us that day. From the moment you opened your door to me I was yours, and to discover you felt the same...well, it would take a stronger dwarf than I to resist you, Bilbo Baggins._

 

_My hobbit. My great love._

 

_Were I strong enough to abandon my life for yours, I may yet live, so after a fashion the choice was mine, and for better or worse I made it. I can only pray you understand why I do what I do, and that my actions and pride make me who I am - the dwarf you once loved above all others, the one you created a life with._

 

_Kiss our cherished little one for me.  Speak to them of me kindly, I beg you. I have made many mistakes, but loving you and loving them were not among them._

 

_Balin has a letter for them, as well.  Dwarves reach their majority at fifty, hobbits at thirty-three, yes?  Use your best judgement, my heart. Whenever you think they are ready to read it, please let them._

 

_I adore you._

 

_I admire you._

 

_I love you, now and always._

 

_Yours, Thorin_

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Bofur returned that evening to find Bilbo alone, smoking on their garden terrace.

 

He settled on the ground at Bilbo's feet, and rested his head against the hobbit's legs.

 

"The children...?" he asked quietly.

 

"With Ori," came the answer.

 

They sat in silence, together, for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested parties: I'm moving, so it may be a few days before I'm able to edit and get the next bit up...but I wanted to get the letter done so you were not left in turmoil!
> 
> Thank you as always for your lovely, supportive and thought-provoking comments! I treasure each and every one!!


	21. My heart, your heart, and all those in-between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur discuss Thorin's letter, and come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving!!

It was not until the sky began to purple with the coming of nightfall, and the wind began to pick up considerably, that Bilbo finally stirred, and reached down to caress his husband's cheek.

"Bofur?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Do...do you wish to read it?"

Bofur sat up and turned to look at him.

"I want what you want, beloved," he said softly. "That letter was written for you, by your One, and if you never wish to share it with me, I will love you no less."

Bilbo murmured something Bofur could not hear.

"Bilbo...?"

"I said, hobbits don't have a One," Bilbo repeated, his smile watery but sweet.

"Well, you know what I mean, then." Bofur smiled back. "You were each other's great love. I can understand that, and I will not be jealous of a memory."

Bilbo leaned forward, grasping Bofur's pigtail in his hand, and drew the dwarf's lips up to his. His kiss was gentle and tender, but firm; and Bofur sighed into it, clearly relishing the closeness and the comfort it brought what the hobbit could see was an uneasy heart.

"I thank the Maker every day for you, did you know that?" Bilbo asked quietly.

"I did not," replied Bofur teasingly. "Perhaps you should do it more loudly, and in my presence. I should very much like to hear that."

"Cheeky."

"The cheekiest. Doubtless that is part of what you love about me."

Bilbo laughed out loud at that, and the sound of it visibly relaxed both of them.

Grinning, Bofur said, "Now, are you going to share that pipe, or shall I have to resort to more nefarious methods?"

With a snort, Bilbo handed it down, and they fell quiet again for a moment. Then Bilbo said,

"I would have you know what he said. I...I want that. I want to share it with you."

Bofur exhaled loudly and said, "Thank Mahal! For I would surely have been in a panic had you kept it to yourself."

Bilbo raised his eyebrow questioningly. "But what about understanding -"

"I do. I _would_ understand. It's your right, after all, either way. But that doesn't mean I don't want to know what it says. It affects you, and I love you." He straightened up, and mustered as much dignity as he could in his absurd hat. "I take that " _for ill or for better_ " stuff quite seriously, you know."

Smiling, Bilbo replied, "Good, because I do too."

 

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They sat at their kitchen table, the parchment between them.

Bofur rubbed his hands over his eyes and sighed.

"Well, nothing like a spot of heartache to go with your afternoon tea," he said, his voice rough with unshed tears.

Bilbo barked out a surprised laugh in spite of himself, and soon they were both laughing a little too wildly, until tears were coursing down both their faces.

It had the effect of being cathartic, and after the initial madness of it subsided, Bofur said, "I would be lying if I did not say I am angry as orc spit. But I'm also, I don't know - flattered? Does that sound peculiar? That I would invest so much in how he regarded me?"

"No," Bilbo said wistfully, wiping his face with a delicately embroidered handkerchief (a wedding gift from Dori). "He had that way about him, yes? He almost demanded your love and your loyalty, and all you ever wanted in return was for him to think highly of you."

Bofur gave Bilbo a small, knowing smile and pressed their foreheads together.

"I think his feelings for some of us ran deeper than that, my love," he said softly.

Bilbo gave a shuddering sigh, but smiled warmly at Bofur, and gently brushed the hair off his husband's face.

"What of his desire that you forgive him? For...for Fíli? For me?"

Shrugging, Bofur looked down at his hands, which lay clasped together in front of him on the table. He was trying mightily to appear at ease and unaffected, but Bilbo could see how tightly his hands were fisted, and how they trembled ever so slightly.

"Well, that...that may take some time, love," he admitted. "Though far be it for me to hold a grudge against someone who is dead, and who was so beloved by you...and who is the father of your beautiful little daughter..."

At this Bilbo started and, cupping Bofur's chin, he lifted the dwarf's face so that he could look into his eyes.

"Sweet, he may be her true father but she has never known any besides you. She loves you, you must know that. And she would not wish to hear you call her _'my'_ daughter, of that you can be sure."

Bofur quickly swiped the back of his hand over his leaking eyes and laughed shakily. "Ahh, thank you for saying that, dearest!  Mahal above, who knew I was such a delicate, fluttering soul, in need of so much constant reassurance about every little thing...but it does my heart good, that it does."

He leaned forward in his chair, and caught Bilbo in a firm, one-armed embrace.

"I love her so terribly, you know," he whispered in Bilbo's ear. "I couldn't love her more if she were my own flesh and blood."

Bilbo hugged him back, and said softly, "Is that what troubles you? That he spoke of her so sweetly? Called himself her adad?"

"Oh, Bilbo, so _much_ in that letter was hard to hear!" Bofur's voice broke, but he took a deep breath and continued. "It hurt my heart to hear him assume Kíli and Fíli survived...and that she would not stand in our way...and he _admits_ that he flat-out chose Erebor over...well, I don't...ah, confound it all!"

He dropped his head into his hands and shook it back and forth.

"It's very difficult for me to not find it all so selfish, really," he continued, his voice muffled by his hands. "He had everything any dwarf could ever hope for with you and Adana, and he chose...he just...he threw it all away! And risked my son's life in the process! And for what?"

He looked up, red-eyed and grim, at Bilbo.

"He broke your heart and mine, kept my son from me until it was too late, and he denied his child the chance to ever know her adad, her _true_  adad, not some poor replacement!"

_Oh,_ thought Bilbo. _Oh dear, dear Bofur._

Scooting his chair forward, Bilbo took both of Bofur's hands in his, entwining their fingers together and lifting them to his cheek.

"When we married, did you not think we were becoming a family?" he asked. "You bound yourself to more than me that day, beloved. What is it you called her?  Our little savior?  Bofur, Thorin may be the father of her blood, but you are and will _always_ be the father of her heart.  Sometimes..." and here he faltered a bit, his voice thickening.  "Sometimes my heart breaks a little when I think he will never know her, never hear her laugh or see her ride a pony...become a warrior or a scholar...perhaps marry and have children of her own...I want to weep and then I remember - it is as he said.  He made a choice.  I may not agree but I chose to love him, knowing he would not be that dwarf had he chosen differently.  I loved him both in spite of and because of what he did."

Bilbo nuzzled his face into Bofur's hands and sighed.  "I cannot speak to your grief over Fíli.  You have every right to be angry.  I can only ask that you try to forgive, for both our sakes, and remember that although he was young, Fíli was a dwarf grown; and he was so proud to fight for and defend Thorin and Erebor.  He chose as well.  Try to understand, and be at peace."

They sat quietly for a long while.

"He truly believed the boys would live. That she would...tell me the truth in the aftermath," Bofur mused.

Bilbo nodded. "It does seem so."

"It's harder to be angry when it's clear he did not know the worst of it all," Bofur sighed. "He certainly thought the best of _her_ , that's obvious."

Bilbo nodded again.

"This letter for Adana...did Balin leave it with you today?"

"Yes," Bilbo replied. "I have not read it. It's tucked away safely until we decide to give it to her."

Bofur looked startled. "We?" he asked shyly. "You would let me weigh in on such a thing?"

Bilbo looked at him sternly. "She's _our_ daughter, husband mine," he said firmly. "No use trying to weasle out now."

Bofur laughed quietly, but his eyes shone.

"That, my dear hobbit," he said, "is the sweetest thing I've heard in a long while."

But, as it turned out, it was not the sweetest thing Bofur had heard in a long while by the end of that afternoon.

Bilbo took him by the hand and led him into their bedroom, where they made love in the warmth of the midday sun, and Bofur made it his business to coax as many sweet sounds out of his hobbit as possible.

 

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"Bilbo?"

"Yes, my love?"

" _Where_  are our children, again?"

Bilbo groaned, and buried his face in Bofur's neck.

"With Ori. And once again, I'm not sure he knew what he was committing to when I asked for his help. We'll have to get him some sort of gift as a thank you."

Bofur laughed. "Love, he has a fourteenth share of all the gold in Erebor. What could we possibly get him he could not get himself?"

Bilbo harumphed. "That is not the point of gifts, and you know that," he scolded.

Trailing kisses along Bilbo's jawline and neck, Bofur murmured, "Perhaps a solid gold cardigan...or a gem encrusted sling shot. Something he can get some use out of."

Bilbo smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, you. Very funny."

"Thank you." Bofur stretched languidly, and Bilbo could not help but admire the muscles under the thick pelt of hair, the way they flexed and moved. He had to sit on his hands to keep them from burying themselves in that hair, all that _hair_...

Bilbo shook his head to clear it and said, "Are we ready to go and fetch our family?"

Bofur turned over to lie on his belly, and now Bilbo had to actually look away, for fear they would never get out of bed.

"Aye, I'm finished talking.  I want to see our little ones.  As long as you love me, I'm satisfied.  There is much to think about, but I want only to move beyond recriminations and regret."  He smiled up at Bilbo, warmly and widely, and Bilbo felt his heart nearly burst with love.  "I have far too many gifts in the present to want to spend time angry at the past."

Bofur then reached up and before Bilbo could protest, he'd pulled him down and kissed him, long and deep, sliding his body alongside Bilbo's until the hobbit gave up any pretense of resisting and kissed him back just as fervently.

In the end, it was a while longer before they collected the children from Ori.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with this chapter - I never thought it would take so long to post it! Hope you enjoyed it...


	22. A second chance to find our way home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur celebrate their anniversary, and share and receive important news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, my apologies. It just made sense to end it here before the next bit, which will hopefully be up very soon.

They celebrated their wedding anniversary a month later in fine style, with the entire remaining Company in attendance, save Nori, who was off Mahal knew where doing Mahal knew what.

There were now fifteen little ones to the Company's name - Bombur's twelve, Bilbo and Bofur's two, and a new son born to Gloin shortly after the fifth anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies.

The party was momentous for several reasons.  It was the occasion Ori and Dwalin chose to announce their intention to wed, after a very secret, year-long courtship (quite short by dwarven standards, but after all they had been through, no one really felt it inappropriate).

It was also the occasion Bilbo and Bofur chose to announce they were expecting again.

The Company, who were all still reeling with excitement from Ori and Dwalin's news, were nearly pushed to the edges of sanity by Bilbo and Bofur's.

The two of them were instantly surrounded, with hugs and tears in great abundance, and Bofur was slapped merrily on the back in congratulations by Dwalin, Gloin and his kin so often he almost fell over.

Ori pulled Bilbo off to the side so that they might share a private moment with each other.

"Oh, Ori," said Bilbo, embracing his friend, "I am so very happy for you, for you both.  It gladdens my heart to know you have found someone to love you, the way you deserve to be loved."

Ori hugged him more tightly and said quietly, "I am happy for you too, Bilbo.  And never fear.  I love him too.  I love him madly.  It's...different than with...well.  But so good."

Bilbo pulled away so that he might look into Ori's tear-stained face.

"Truly?" he asked. "I do not ask out of judgement.  I only want you to be happy.  If you say you are..."

Ori nodded, and smiled sweetly. "I am, Bilbo.  And Dwalin knows.  I've told him everything.  He said he would not be jealous of a ghost, and that he wants nothing more than to love and be loved by me, for however long we have together."

Bilbo felt his heart stir at those familiar words.

"Then I am content, my dear friend.  May you be as happy as Bofur and I have been.  I do hope Dwalin knows how lucky he is."

Pulling him into another embrace, Ori murmured quietly, "I'm lucky, too."

 

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The third reason the party was so remarkable was the news Balin quietly imparted to Bofur and Bilbo, towards the end of the evening and out of earshot of the others.

They were stunned.

"Leaving? What do you mean, 'leaving'?" Bofur finally managed.

Balin looked around quickly, then leaned in and said very quietly, "She's received a proposal from the prince of the Ironfists in the Red Mountains, Prince Thingol. She has decided to accept."

"But why would she leave Erebor?" Bilbo sputtered. "After all her kin sacrificed to win it back?"

Looking at them both a little sadly, Balin said, "Perhaps she seeks a chance for her own happiness, lads.   And that chance is not here, surrounded by the specters of her dead family and, well..." He coughed, clearly uncomfortable.   "Erebor can never be her home again, not really."

The old dwarf seemed strangely out of sorts, and Bilbo looked closely at his face.

"You're sad to see her go, aren't you?" he asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

Balin sighed. "Aye, lad, I am." he admitted.   "I've known her since she was born, before all this...madness began, and I will tell you it's difficult to completely forget the lass she once was, smart and quick and bright as a star."   He smiled softly, and his eyes held a far-away look in them.   "I have long held out hope the dwarrowdam I remember so fondly would find her way back to us...but I imagine this is for the best, in the long run."

Once again, Bilbo found himself wondering what truth lay in the heart of another...and why dwarves put such store in the nonsense of finding your One, when it seemed to so often mean overlooking a jewel right in front of one's nose.

He glanced over at Bofur, who was obviously (to Bilbo, at least) trying hard to not appear too jubilant at the news, and smiled to himself.

Right in front of his nose, indeed.

 

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Their child was due in mid-spring, and time seemed to almost speed up as they approached the birth, as there was much to occupy them.

Bofur's toy business was booming, and he and Bifur (who had chosen to live aboveground in Dale and owned a very popular toy shop there) had joined forces and enlarged Bofur's previous shop to accommodate the demand that grew apace with the populations of the mountain and Dale. Bofur also continued to provide assistance with the mines, working largely as an advisor and labor negotiator, and his good nature served him well in both endeavors.

Bilbo still aided Ori whenever he could, although the demands of Adana and Sefur kept him quite busy, and the pregnancy this time was much more exhausting than the others had been.  He was also quite a bit rounder for yet having so much time yet to go, and often complained to Bofur that he felt he might burst sometimes.  For the first time, he welcomed the bitter cold that came with winter at the mountain and Bofur came home more than once to find his very large, very grumpy hobbit sitting in their garden terrace, eyes closed, face turned to the wind.

And, sure enough, by early spring, they all discovered exactly _why_ Bilbo had been quite so big and quite so out-of sorts.

They named their daughter Belladonna, and their son Rembur.

 

 


	23. The heart of a stranger who shares my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís takes her leave of Erebor, and of Bilbo.

The day Dís departed for the Orocarni was gloomy and overcast, and chilly in that way late spring mornings can be - not so cold as winter, with a promise of warmth later in the day and the scent of fresh leaves and grass in the damp air.

After much heated discussion, Bilbo went to see her off, with Adana in tow.

_"Beloved, it could well be the last time we ever see her."_

_Bofur snorted angrily. "May Mahal bless us so." He cradled Belladonna gently in his arms, careful not to jostle her too much as he argued with Bilbo._

_Sighing, Bilbo said, "What happened to moving beyond recriminations?"_

_Bofur shot him a look._

_"That does not mean I have to saunter over and wish her well on her journey, cordial as can be, as if there were nothing more heated between us than a disagreement over tea!" he retorted in a low tone._

_Bilbo smiled a little as he said, "You have no idea how heated such things can become in the Shire, love. There is no quicker way to make an enemy of a hobbit than to disagree with their taste in tea."_

_Bofur gestured helplessly. "Well you know what I mean, Bilbo."_

_That his husband would use his proper name and not one of the many endearments he preferred spoke volumes to Bilbo._

_The hobbit sat down on the small sofa and gestured to Bofur to sit as well. In the background he could hear Adana explaining to Sefur his role in their quest to storm the palace, and Sefur babbling his presumed agreement._

_Belladonna had fallen asleep in Bofur's arms, and Rembur was currently dozing in the basinet Bofur had hurriedly carved when they'd discovered there were two children this time around._

_"I apologize if I seemed flippant," Bilbo began quietly. "It breaks my heart to think of your pain and, like you, I miss Fíli and Kíli dearly. Every day."_

_Bofur nodded stiffly, bringing his tiny daughter up to give her a sweet kiss on her head._

_"I would only say that our daughter is of her blood, and the blood of Durin," he continued, ever-mindful of Bofur's growing agitation.  "Out of respect for Thorin, I feel Adana and I should be there to take our leave of her; to perhaps see that, now that she has chosen a path and has somewhere to place her affections, if she may have...I don't know,_ relented _a bit, I suppose."_

_His husband sat silently, his bare foot gently rocking Rembur's basinet._

_Bilbo began to feel at a bit of a loss. "I'm sure you think that very naive of me, but I was raised to think the best of folk, and it's a hard lesson to turn from, particularly when it involves kin."_

_At that Bofur's head shot up. "That dam is no kin of mine," he nearly hissed._

_Leaning forward and placing his hand placatingly on Bofur's knee, Bilbo said quietly, "No. She's not. But she is the kin of two of your children."_

_Bofur's head dropped again, and Bilbo could see the tears begin rolling down his face. He awkwardly tried to wipe his face with his shoulder since his hands were still full of baby, and Bilbo thought he had never loved him more than in that moment._

_He fished out an ever-present handkerchief and gently cleaned Bofur's face himself, and finished by kissing him on the forehead._

_"I shall not go if you do not agree." Bilbo said firmly. "I would never want you to feel betrayed, and I will never go against you in something of this magnitude. I will only hope that you love me enough to trust me in this. It is the right thing to do."_

_Bofur looked at him reproachfully._

_"And how am I to say no after that, may I ask?" he admonished. "You've got me right where you want me, with that last bit."  Sighing heavily, he hesitated a moment before softly adding, "Because well you know how much I love you, and that I_ do _trust you, in all things. If you think this is what you need to do, then I agree."_

_Bilbo pressed their foreheads together and said, "Thank you, my dearest heart. Thank you for this."_

And now here they were, he and Adana, standing by the grand gates of Erebor, watching as Lady Dís prepared to ride off to an uncertain future, in a kingdom untainted for her by blood and grief.

Bilbo's heart felt light, and was surprised to realize he was almost happy for Dís. It hurt him to think of Adana's only dwarven link to Thorin so full of rage and bitterness, and he was hopeful that her union might bring her some peace, at last.

And this time, finally, his faith was rewarded.

 

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She approached them last, having exchanged words with Dain, his many advisors and the remaining members of the Company, save Bofur.

Bilbo could not help but notice how dreadfully sad and wan Balin looked.

His body tensed ever so slightly as she drew closer, and he gripped Adana's hand hard enough to make her squeak and pull her small hand from his, looking up at him disapprovingly.

"Sorry, love," he muttered quietly, right before Dís stopped in front of them.

She looked Bilbo in the eye, and then her gaze drifted down to Adana...and, wonder of wonders, he watched, startled, as her expression softened ever so slightly.

She looked back up at him, and said crisply, "She favors my brother, Master Hobbit. She has his eyes and his nose."  Her lip then curled up in slight moue of distaste as she continued, "I see she has your feet, however."

Cutting off Adana's indignant chirp with a firm hand on her shoulder, Bilbo said simply, "You're quite correct, Lady Dís. She indeed has a hobbit's feet."

They regarded each other for a moment, and the only sound in the silence was Adana's restless shifting from one hobbit foot to another. She finally tugged on Bilbo's hand and looked up at him beseechingly, saying, "Papa, may we please go home now? I want to see Da and the babies."

Bilbo tried not to visibly blanch at this direct reference to Bofur, and their children together, but Dís only looked down at his daughter again thoughtfully.

"Do you love your Da, then, little one?" she asked her.

Nodding vigorously, Adana said, "Oh yes, ma'am, very much. He's not my _real_ da, but I love him like he was."

Clearly taken aback, Dís asked, "Then who _is_ your real Da, child?"

Looking up at Bilbo, and receiving an encouraging nod in response, Adana replied, "His name was Thorin, and he died fighting to reclaim Erebor. He was a King, and a great hero."

Dís's eyes flicked back up to Bilbo, and he met her gaze steadily.

She looked back down at Adana, and said, "You're quite correct, child. He was a hero, and I daresay he would be very pleased you agree. He would be quite proud of you, I think."

Puffing up at the praise, Adana said boldly, "Papa and Da tell me he would be proud of me, too. And Da tells me he would be very proud of what a good big sister I am."

This was news to Bilbo. While he did not disagree with the sentiment, he had never heard Bofur and Adana talk about Thorin, and the thought of it warmed his heart tremendously.

"Your Da is quite correct," Dís replied, her voice slightly unsteady. "Thorin would be very proud of that."

Silence descended again, and once again it was broken by Adana.

"Papa says you're my auntie, and that you're leaving to go far away."

The corners of Dís's mouth quirked up ever so slightly in a very small smile.

"Both of those things are true, child."

Adana's next response had clearly been drilled into her, but somehow managed to feel somewhat genuine. She curtsied, and said very calmly and clearly, "Safe travels. And may we meet again someday."

She finished with a triumphant look to Bilbo, thus ruining any tiny, lingering impression that the response had been spontaneous.

Bilbo tried not to laugh.

Surprisingly, it seemed as if Dís was doing the same.

"Your Papa and Da have done well by you," she told Adana. "You are a credit to the line of Durin, and I do indeed hope we meet again someday."

She looked at Bilbo then, much more soberly, and said, "Master Hobbit, I thank you for seeing me off today, and for bringing my...my niece with you. It has been most illuminating. My congratulations to you and your husband," and that word caught in her throat ever so slightly, "on your ever-expanding family. May you continue to bring each other joy, and may fate continue to be kind to you all."

Nodding once, Bilbo said, "I thank you for your well-wishes, and offer ours as well on your upcoming union. May you find your happiness in the East. It is well-deserved."

She gave him a long look. "Is it, now?" she said softly. "We shall see. We shall see."

She turned and headed toward the caravan. Bilbo and Adana watched as she swung onto her pony, and took her place at the head of the delegation.

They watched as the caravan slowly made its way down the side of the mountain, toward the city of Dale.

They stood, hand in hand, and watched until every last rider was out of sight.

Then Bilbo picked up his weary, sleepy daughter, and carried her back into Erebor, back home.

Bilbo never saw Dís again.

 

 


	24. My love knows no bounds, and my heart can never be too full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo returns home, and eases Bofur's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, another short little chapter with some fuzzy feels...the final one will be up this weekend!

By the time they arrived home, Adana was fast asleep on Bilbo's shoulder, and the hobbit was lost in thought.

He discovered Bofur in their sitting room, rocking and holding Sefur as the lad slept against his chest, his mouth open slightly. By some small miracle, both babies were also asleep and Bilbo lost no time in swiftly and carefully placing Adana in her bed and drawing her small blanket up over her back.

He walked back out to the sitting room, and held his arms out to take Sefur from Bofur and place him in bed too.

Instead, Bofur shook his head and hugged the lad more tightly.

"Please?" he asked quietly. "He's so comfortable...as am I."

Bilbo smiled, and leaned in to kiss the top of Bofur's head. Heading into the kitchen, Bilbo put the kettle on and set some bread and cheese on a small tray, along with a few of the oatmeal cookies he knew to be Bofur's favorite.

When his tea was ready, he added the cup to the tray and went back to sit on the sofa, placing the tray on a side table. He silently offered a cookie to Bofur, who smiled and reached his hand out, accepting it gratefully. Bilbo helped himself to some bread and cheese and together they sat for a moment, not speaking, simply eating and thinking.  It was Bofur who finally broke the silence.

"So will you make me ask, then?" he said, his voice hesitant and soft.

Surprised, Bilbo looked up and was startled to discover that behind a mask of domestic contentment, real anxiety lurked in his husband's face.

"Oh, love," he said tenderly, as he reached out his hand to rest on Bofur's knee. "I'm sorry. I had not considered how worried you must be."

Bofur exhaled sharply and stilled his rocking. He shifted Sefur with great care up onto his shoulder and, shaking his head, he said simply, "I have been able to think of nothing else since you both left, if I am to be honest." He regarded Bilbo with a cautious eye and then, tentatively, "It seems it could not have gone _terribly_ badly. You look...satisfied, I would say."

Patting the place on the sofa next to where he sat in invitation, Bilbo said, "No, it did not go badly. In fact, it almost gave me hope."

Bofur stood and crossed to the sofa, lowering himself down slowly next to Bilbo, mindful of the sleeping dwobbit in his arms.

"Hope?" he asked, very quietly.

Nodding, Bilbo explained, "She was remarkably civil."

"Ah," Bofur said.

Bilbo smiled at him, and added, "Adana told her you had said Thorin would be proud of what a good big sister she was."

Chuckling softly, Bofur admitted, "Aye. I did tell her that. It's true enough, I think, don't you?"

"Oh, I absolutely think he would be proud of that." His eyes searched Bofur's face for a moment, and then he said with deceptive casualness, "She also said she loved you as dearly as if you were her real Da, as she put it."

Bofur's head shot up, and his eyes instantly filled with tears.

"She said that? Truly?" he whispered disbelievingly.

"She did indeed. She told me right in front of her that she wanted to come home to see Da and the babies. Had quite a lot to say on the subject of her Da, as a matter of fact."

Bofur shook his head and the tears now fell freely, sliding down his cheeks and dampening his moustache. He sniffed mightily, and Sefur began to stir ever so slightly. Bofur patted his back soothingly and he settled down again, muttering to himself in his sleep.

Bilbo moved closer to rest his head on Bofur's available shoulder, and curled up into the toymaker's side.

"Why are you so surprised?" he asked gently, running his hand up and down Bofur's arm to reassure him. "Surely you know how mad she is for you, after all this time."

"Oh, Bilbo," Bofur replied, his voice thick with unshed tears, "I could never hear _that_ often enough. It would not be possible."  He cleared his throat and continued, "And it is not surprise that makes me weep.  It's the thought of our little princess presenting us as a true family to _her._   It fills me with such pride and happiness I feel I might burst."

Bilbo felt tears spring into his own eyes at that, and they both fell into silence again, though this time it was a warm and comfortable one as they cuddled each other and Sefur, tears staining both their faces.

After a while, Bilbo snorted and gathered himself to say, "Oh, dear, look at the two of us...a soppy old dwarf and his trembling hobbit. We make a fine pair!"

They both laughed softly, with Bofur trying vainly not to jostle Sefur too much in his mirth. He leaned over to kiss Bilbo gently on the temple as the hobbit attempted to dry both their faces with his handkercheif.

"I am glad things went well. I truthfully had no idea what to expect. And now...well."  He smiled, almost to himself, and Bilbo knew the great burden that his husband had been carrying for far too long was finally lifted.  "We're shut of it. It's over."

Bilbo said nothing - he just curled himself again into Bofur's side, even more tightly, and sent up a quick prayer of thanks.

He knew, in that moment of quiet peace, that he had never loved his family more.

 


	25. There is happiness, and there is an ending

That summer brought the wedding of Dwalin and Ori, and Bilbo was certain he'd never seen his dear friend so happy. Dwalin, too, was merrier than Bilbo had ever known him to be, and he and Bofur both drank far too much and had to be restrained from tossing a gleeful Adana and Sefur around like Bilbo's plates and flatware all those years ago in Bag End.

Dori and Balin spent much of the evening cooing and fussing over the twins, as did Bombur's wife and his oldest daughter. Bilbo was grateful for the respite, and spent most of _his_  evening teaching whomever cared to learn Shire drinking songs and a fairly complicated social dance, intended to be performed at weddings by any and all who were unattached and wished to remedy that situation.

By the time the family returned home that night, all four children were fast asleep, making the task of bundling them into their beds that much easier.

Charged with the older two, Bilbo had just finished settling Sefur in and double-checking on Adana, when Bofur grasped his arm and pulled it firmly, so that Bilbo's back was pressed up against Bofur's front.

"I love you, you gorgeous, fussy, nimble little hobbit, you." he whispered as he began to nuzzle Bilbo's ear.

Before he could stop himself, Bilbo groaned loudly and leaned back against his husband, groaning again when he felt the dwarf's hardness pressing back.

"Love you, too," he managed breathlessly. "You soppy, stubborn old dwarf."

"Flatterer," Bofur murmured, his hands quickly divesting Bilbo of his outer coat and vest. Quick as a wink, he reversed their positions, and Bilbo found his back now pressed against the wall of their hallway, and his front squeezed deliciously against Bofur's.

The dwarf leaned in to capture Bilbo's mouth in a heated, ardent kiss, his tongue caressing Bilbo's lips and sliding against his own tongue, while his hands gently skimmed Bilbo's braces off his shoulders and down his sides.

Before Bilbo could gather his wits, Bofur lifted him with ease, and sighed happily as Bilbo eagerly wrapped his legs around Bofur's waist.

Their kisses grew deeper and even more urgent as Bofur stumbled into their bedroom and collapsed, with Bilbo on top of him, onto their bed. His hands reached up to fumble with the buttons on Bilbo's trousers, and he growled as the hobbit knocked his hands away to undo them himself.

"You concentrate on yours, I can handle mine," Bilbo murmured with a smile against Bofur's mouth.

They stripped off their remaining clothes as quickly as possible, and soon after that they were joined, skin to skin. Bilbo's hands were buried in the thick hair on Bofur's chest, and he threw his head back and let out a loud moan, relishing the feeling of heated friction and of glorious fullness.

Bofur grasped his hips hard enough to leave bruises and growled again, his eyes dark with lust. "When you make sounds like that, it drives me wild," he said fervently. "Do it again, lover - let me hear you! Let me hear you come undone, hear what I do to you!"

Bilbo was more than happy to oblige.

 

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

 

In the afterglow, they lay entwined on their bed, Bofur absently carding through Bilbo's curls. Bilbo was so blissful, so relaxed that he was almost asleep when Bofur said softly, "I want more."

Bilbo laughed and stretched, saying, "I'm happy to help you with that, love, I just need to sleep a bit first."

Bofur embraced him more tightly and buried his face in Bilbo's hair.

"No, I meant - well, obviously _yes_ , I want more of that too, as much as you're agreeable to, but I meant more...more children."

Now Bilbo was awake.

He turned to face Bofur and sat up on his elbow. "More children?" he asked, surprised.

Ducking his head a bit, Bofur nodded shyly. "I never, ever thought I would be so lucky to have little ones of my own, and now I find I am greedy. I want as many of them as we can have." He laughed self-consciously and said, "I want to give Bombur and Suda something to think about!"

Bilbo laughed too, saying, "Well, I suppose...I mean, I don't see why not. My own mother was one of twelve, as you know. Now, I can't promise a dozen, you know," he added hastily, in response to Bofur's incredulously eager expression. "But we could certainly have more, if that's what you want. I always dreamed of a big family."

Grinning, Bofur leaned over to kiss him, his hand grasping Bilbo's cheek tenderly.

"Well, that was simple!" he almost crowed. "I thought you'd be far more difficult to convince."

And before Bilbo could protest Bofur's lack of faith in him, Bofur rolled on top of him and said lasciviously, "Now, about those children..."

Bilbo would have swatted him, had he been able to think straight.

 

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As fate would have it, they did not have twelve children. They had eight, perfectly acceptable by hobbit standards, and downright stunning by dwarven ones.

Sons Danus and Helin joined the family first, followed by daughter Lilac.

At that point the males were, as Bofur put it, "winning", and Nori and Gloin took bets on the sex of the eighth child, predicting correcting it would be the last. Bilbo was by that time sixty four years of age, and, while still capable, he was admittedly growing a bit old to bear, and Bofur was unwilling to risk his husband's health in any way.

The odds were three to five, in favor of another boy, and those who bet with the odds were rewarded. Their eighth and final child was male.

They named him Jíli, in honor and remembrance of Bofur's first son.

 

_EPILOGUE_

 

And so it was that a hobbit, and a whole slew of dwobbits, lived in the magnificent dwarven kingdom of Erebor.

And while it is a well-known fact that most hobbits rarely venture outside the borders of the Shire, one most certainly did, and found himself changed enough to never want to go back again.

His name was Bilbo Baggins, and he never did get used to hearing that dratted ballad, even though he lived to be over one hundred and twenty years old.

He had been the beating heart and joyful soul of a king, and was the beloved husband and cherished partner of a miner and toymaker.

He was the father of eight adored children, and the uncle of one very brave nephew, who joined Bilbo's family in Erebor after the death of his own parents. His nephew inspired a few songs of his own, as it turned out, as did his daughter Adana and his son Danus, for their part in the quest to destroy the One Ring of Sauron.

That Bilbo had been terribly proud of them all went without saying...as did the fact that the time those three were away on that terrible journey was the longest and most painful of his life, even more painful than the months following the Battle of the Five Armies.

At least he had had his husband to lean on.

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When his time came, he was surrounded by his children, one grandchild...and his husband, his partner...

His great love.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - it's all done!!
> 
> Thank you so very much to everyone who read, left kudos and commented on this, the very first piece of fiction I have ever written in my entire life! I am stunned and humbled that anyone would take the time to do those things. It meant the world to me. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> I'll see you all back here after the Desolation of Smaug! Happy Holidays!


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